


Never Ending Game

by CrystalWoolf



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Action, F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:20:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalWoolf/pseuds/CrystalWoolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"For a secretary you seem to know a lot about solving crimes." Sherlock spoke his eyes bearing into mine making me sure he was seeing right through my disguise. <br/>She was normal, too normal Sherlock noted. There was nothing special about her, nothing stood out. Just a secretary. When he  is called for one of the oddest cases of his career and it is her apartment he is forced to rethink his original observations. An odd friendship of sorts sparks between them and when J.M.'s puzzles begin the one most affected seems to be the "normal" secretary. </p>
<p>Lengthy story, that will include a past story for our favorite consulting criminal James Moriarty with a well added original character that spices up the story a bit without a bunch of ridiculous OC-ness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. CH. 1

**Author's Note:**

> First off I would like to begin by saying that this fan fiction is based off of the BBC Sherlock Holmes and parts of the original books, and that I obviously do NOT own those parts of it. Do Not copy any part of my fan fiction otherwise I shall have to stop writing it and just delete it. There are other sites where the work is protected better and I am taking a leap of faith by posting it up here. If you abused that, well than as I said before I will take it off without hesitation. 
> 
> You will notice a pattern in the beginning of my story where I have a chapter set in the past and then a chapter set in present day. I do not own any of the script from the BBC Sherlock Holmes but I use it to keep my story following the basic plot although there will be alterations and additions in some places.

Ch. 1  
\--NINE YEARS OLD  
(Loran and James)

I stared in awe at the dark haired boy who sat next to me facing the window. No, I didn’t have a school girl crush on him although admittedly he was definitely handsome. He intrigued me. In class he never spoke a word but I had been sitting beside him for a few weeks, each and every assignment handed out to him was done in a minute without a single mistake. In my eyes he was perfect. People, called him odd but I knew better. The fact that he was a genius was well hidden by his lack of talking.

The paper in front of me was filled out as well of course. I was no idiot but in comparison to the quiet boy who sat next to me, James Moriarty, I might have been. Everyone else in the classroom was still busily running their pencils across their papers occasionally stopping to contemplate a more difficult problem as I sat there trying to decipher the genius who sat beside me.

James moved his head away from the window a bit and met my gaze with an uninterested one before scanning the rest of the classroom stopping briefly at Sarah Becking, a freckled red head who sat with a stupid expression on her face a few rows across from us. Looking back at me he scanned my paper with his eyes nodding slightly as if satisfied. By now I was used to this action, it happened nearly every day. The only acknowledgement I ever received from his was a brief nod before turning back to the window. Honestly it irritated me to no end. How was I ever supposed to solve him if he never even spoke to me? I was determined to get him to speak.

Today I had brought along the rubix cube I had gotten for my birthday. I figured that a genius like him would enjoy solving problems as much as I did. Of course I had long since solved it and I was curious to see how long it took him to do it as well. The rest of class passed in its usual dull way and I swear I would have died if I didn’t have my thoughts to distract me. Once the bell rang James worked at his usual pace carefully and neatly putting everything in his back pack in the same order as he did every day. Long ago I had realized that he was a perfectionist and a neat freak, his clothes never had a wrinkle and were always more formal than everyone else’s. Most kid who tried that ended up bullied but as far as I could tell no bullies dared to mess with him. Like I said earlier he intrigued me, in a way he was my hero.

While everyone else unpacked their things I grabbed my bag and pulled out the waiting rubix cube. James took silent notice of it as I set it down on the desk for a minute so I could put away everything else. Quickly pushing my papers into my plain black folder I dropped my folder into my backpack and turned to Jim who was finishing zipping up his backpack. “James, have you ever tried solving a rubix cube?” I asked offering him the colorful cube.

He cocked an eyebrow slightly before lightly shaking his head. Beaming I tossed it to him. Catching it he looked down at it before looking up at me in confusion. “You want me to solve it?” He asked. Mentally throwing a party inside my head for managing to get him to speak I smiled.

“Of course, I know you can do it and honestly I want to see how fast you solve it. My fasted time is two minutes but that was after practicing. “ I explained. He nodded a tiny bit looking down at the cube for a second before his hands began to move. Silently I watched in amazement as he moved each piece perfectly and quickly to the right position. Glancing up at the school clock I realized it had taken him less than a minute. It had only been his first time.

“Wow.” Was all I could say for the moment, yes I had expected him to finish quicker than me but not THAT much quicker than me. “You really are a genius” I finally managed to breathe out.

He sighed before tossing the cube into the garbage that wasn’t too far behind our desk which were located in the back corner of the room. “You already knew that.” He stated evenly before beginning to walk out of the room.

I stared between him and the trash can where my rubix cube laid unnoticed in its coffin, our school trash can. Frowning a bit I grabbed my bag slinging it over my shoulder as I rushed after him. Catching up wasn’t too difficult since he always took the same path that I had by now memorized. “You owe me a rubix cube.” I muttered to him as I set my pace equal to his.

“No, I owe you a puzzle” he disagreed. “You got bored of that months ago when you stopped messing with it at recess.” My frown changed into a look of confusion as I wondered how he had known that. I always thought I was the one watching him not the other way around.

“You’ve been watching me then?” I questioned examining his face while I waited for a reply. What did he mean by a new puzzle? In all honesty the five hundred piece ones were just plain irritating.

He just kept looking forward. “I watch everyone” he answered. “You do the same thing so you can’t say it is odd. “ He added. A small smile cracked out from my straight lined face.

“Yes, I do” I admitted my small smile now large in comparison to my small face. “So what is this puzzle you are talking about then?” I asked making sure he didn’t drop the subject.

He smiled for the first time. “The biggest one out there, the real world” He answered making me look at him confused.

“Do you mean the crimes?” I asked hopefully. Yes, I was into that sort of thing. It was entertaining to try and solve the mystery before the cops. Most of the time though I couldn’t because police were a bit reluctant to give out any information on ongoing cases, instead I would settle for the old relics of unsolved cases.

He shook his head with an amused smile on his face, “Why of course. They are much more interesting than any rubix cube. “Beaming I nodded in agreement before climbing onto the bus with James Moriarty, the person who would later be my best friend.


	2. CH.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last chapter I post here this week but if you want to read more feel free to go to http://www.quotev.com/story/3271085/Never-Ending-Game-Love-triangle-of-sorts/1/ where I have at least nine chapters posted. Yes, the above URL leads to another writing site I write on, and that is my main writing site so it will be updated more frequently unless it is more appreciated on this site. Again no stealing my work or I will have to take it off of this writing site. Unlike the majority of stories up here I do plan on making this one lengthy and enjoyable to my readers so I suggest subscribing, or bookmarking so you will be informed of updates because they are going to happen.

CH. 2  
SHERLOCK

 

My smile grew as I watched the news, a live interview with Detective Lestrade on the most recent case. At first glance it appeared to be a mass suicide but there was something more, something that struck my interest. Every one of the deceased was different, too different. It was not suicide, I was sure of it. First off the victims had no reason to want themselves dead ruling out most suicide. On top of that they were all found in places they had no place being. Clearly murder, most definitely.

It irritated me when I heard the Detective say something completely inaccurate on the television so I corrected him. Easily hacking into the reporter’s phones I texted one simple word, it was all that was needed really. Sadly Lestrade ignored me and continued to speak based off what his tiny brain must have considered accurate. It was pitying really. Another incorrect piece of information and I sent another text and another along with a reminder to Lestrade. He would be coming to see me later I told myself as I headed down to the morgue. 

The man laid out on the table had supposedly died of natural causes, I was positive it wasn’t really. Molly looked nervous, and attempted to joke around most likely to relieve what she must have thought was an awkward silence. Ignoring her I unzipped the bag looking down at the dead pale face of the man, “Fine, we’ll start with that riding crop.” She looked as if she was going to question me but did as I said eager to please.

She retreated from the room as I began to beat the dead man’s skin. It would help me determined how he really died. Over and over again I hit until I got tired. Molly walked back in attempting to lighten the mood with some form of joke. She began to start asking something, something was different. Immediately my eyes located it she was wearing lipstick that she hadn’t been wearing earlier. “You are wearing lipstick? You weren’t wearing lipstick before. “ I questioned stopping my scribbled writing for a moment.

She looked startled for a second and hurriedly thought up an excuse, “I…ah, I refreshed it a bit." The way she said it made it obvious she was a lie, a slight stammer when she spoke. Why she was lying I was unsure, it seemed to just be for the sake of lying.

Choosing to let it drop I spoke indicating that she should continue with whatever she was saying previously. “I’m sorry you were saying?", I asked getting her back on topic.

She looked as if she was regaining some sort of confidence as she spoke next, “I was wondering if you’d like to have coffee?”

Of course I would love to have coffee I thought in bewilderment and quickly informed her of how I liked it. “Black two sugars, I’ll be upstairs” Turning I started to head towards the lab to examine things a little further.

“Okay” She answered her voice an octave higher indicating something was the matter, or her nerves were getting to her. She had been shaky all morning I thought, she might want to look into getting a bit more sleep at times. 

Not long after I started my work in the lab footsteps could be heard, they most definitely did not belong to Anne, so it was not my coffee being delivered, two men of different weight by the sound of it. Mike walked in with an unfamiliar man. “Mike can I borrow your phone, there is no signal on mine. ” I asked wanting to send a quick text.

“What’s wrong with the land line?” He asked in confusion. The land line I thought in disappointment, no texting ability. You have to speak into the thing…irritating. You can communicate much faster through text.

“Oh, I prefer to text” I explained simply sparing him the many reasons why I preferred it over calling.

He hesitated for a moment his face showing he didn’t have it on hand “Sorry it is in my coat” He stated. I was slightly disappointed but no matter.

His friend the returned soldier politely offered his. “Ah… Here use mine”

“An old friend of mine John Watson” Mike introduced stating the obvious, the only valuable information from his words was the name.

Clearly he would be my future flat mate I mused looking over his quickly before accepting the phone. He had been shot in the leg most likely but his lack of asking for a chair showed he was used to it by now. The injury was most likely the reason he had been discharged I thought to myself as started typing.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?” I asked my fingers moving across the keys of his phone. Initials were engraved in the cover showing he had a sibling.

He hesitated for a second obviously confused as to how I got that information, then again people usually were. “I’m sorry?” He asked

“Which was it Afghanistan or Iraq?” I asked again speaking clearly. He seemed to shocked at my knowledge to answer which I could consider pitying but then again most people were shocked at how much I saw.

“I’m sorry how did you…” He trailed off as Molly’s footsteps became audible and the door swung open

Smiling lightly glad to receive my coffee I moved to accept it. In the process I noted that her lipstick was missing. “Ah Molly, coffee, thank you. What happened to the lipstick?” I asked confused as to why she had taken it off.

She looked dejected as she answered. “It wasn’t working for me.”

“Really I thought it was a big improvement?” It really was a shame it had been an improvement even if it was only a small one.

“Okay” She squeaked quietly before quickly leaving the room.

“How do you feel about the violin?” I asked John wanting to test to see if he would work as a flat mate. People were easily annoyed with me, and to say finding a flat mate was difficult was an understatement.

“I’m sorry what?” He asked confused at my question. It was clear he did not understand why I was asking his opinion so I explained.

“I play the violin when I am thinking. Sometimes I don’t talk for days on end. Would that bother you, potential flat mate should know the worst about each other.” I spoke quickly trying to get this business done with as soon as possible otherwise it would no doubt get to be quite boring.

He looked shocked for a couple seconds and turned to Mike, “What? Y..you told him about me?”

Mike shook his head slightly amused at his friend’s reaction, many people were when they were introducing someone to me but there reaction most times had been worse. “Not a word”

“Then who said anything about flat mates?” John demanded.

Realizing it was time to reveal how I knew I quickly spoke trying to make the explanation as brief as possible. I was in a hurry. “I did. I told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flat mate for. Now here he is just out to lunch with an old friend clearly disowned from Military service in Afghanistan” I summarized before adding that it wasn’t difficult in the slightest to figure any of that out.

“How did you know about Afghanistan? “ He asked curiosity mixed with him confusion from before. He was really adjusting fast I noted.

Not having time to explain that as well at the moment I continued with business, “Got my eye on a nice little place in central London together we should be able to afford it, we meet there tomorrow evening seven o’clock. Sorry gotta dash to pick up riding crop in the mortuary.” I apologized before beginning to walk towards the exit.

“Is that it?” John asked looking slightly shocked but it wasn’t the same type of shock as before, it was directed more it seemed at me than anything I had said.

“Is that what?” I asked for clarification. Human words were harder to predict the meaning of. I could figure out where they had been, who they had been around recently, and what they liked but this was not exactly my forte. As some people told me I did not know how to communicate.

“When we just met we are going to go look at a flat?” He asked as if it was odd somehow. It seemed perfectly logical to me. I had already confirmed him to be a decent enough flat mate and he so far had not objected to sharing a flat with me.

“Problem?” I asked, what I could tell from how he spoke was that he wasn’t about to change his mind about sharing the flat which was a relief of sorts but left the question of what his problem was if it wasn’t that.

“We don’t know a thing about each other. I don’t where we are meeting. I don’t even know your name.” He stated as if trying to convince me of some non-existent issue.

I turned and look directly at him for the first time before proving to him that I did know a thing about him. If those were his issues I would quickly resolve them. “I know you are an army doctor and you been over living in Afghanistan. I know you have a brother who is worried about you but you won’t go to him for help because you don’t approve of him. Possibly because he is an alcoholic but more likely because he recently walked out on his wife, and I know your therapist thinks your limp is slightly traumatic quite correctly I am afraid.” I recited before stating simply, “That is enough to be going on don’t you think?” Moving towards the door I quickly stuck my head out and resolved the rest of his issues. “The name is Sherlock and the address is 221B Baker Street.” Inclining my head slightly I bid them afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All three of them loved to solve puzzles  
> They just took different paths  
> The Villain, the Hero, and the Secretary?  
> Two of them made sense but the third?  
> Well, she had her reasons.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------  
> I do NOT own Sherlock Holmes nor do I own any of the dialect that I use from it. What I do own is any additional characters I add into the story and my alterations to the original which make it a fan fiction. Admittedly my fan fiction starts out slower and all parts told from Sherlock's point of view up until the point when he meets my OC will be the same.
> 
> AND DO NOT STEAL


	3. CH.3

Ch. 3  
FOURTEEN YEARS OLD  
(James and Loran)

I laid out on James’ immaculate bed with a sigh reading through the newspaper for anything interesting. The other kids my age only read the comics, for me the comics were dull, without any form of amusement for me. James was the same which was probably why the two of us found ourselves cooped up in his room on a pleasant summer day bored out of our minds. We had long since solved all of the old cases we had come across and my mother refused to let us go to some other more populated city to have a fresh set off puzzles. It was obvious she didn’t approve of my past time but them again she never did. More than once she compared my cork bored full of newspaper cut outs and  
sticky notes to a criminal’s target list.

She really didn’t understand me I thought as I flipped to the section on recent crimes. Our town was dull, it never had enough puzzles to be solved I thought in disappointment as I read the title of the first article on the page.

An Unexpected passing

Reverend Higginson was found lying dead in the forest yesterday. Police say it was a homicide but so far no suspects are to be found. Everyone who knew the Reverend must surely be grieving the loss of such a fine down to earth man. More information will be released as the case unfolds.

 

I looked happily up from the newspaper to where James was wearily clicking off another news site that he must have deemed worthless, “Boring, the whole lot of them. All I have to do is read the first paragraph and I can predict the rest. Since when was life so dull? “ He asked.

I knew he was talking to me, I was after all the only person he ever spoke a word to other than his mother who still got the silent treatment most of the time. James said she was dull and without a brain in her head, personally I found her quite pleasant but I would never argue with James. Remembering the article in my hand I jumped up from the bed quickly slamming down on the desk in front of James excitedly. It wasn’t an open closed case like the rest of them. There were no suspects yet, nothing really other than the fact that he died. The article didn’t even mention how he died! Excitement was growing in me as James stared up at me for a second in confusion glancing over at the now wrinkled bed covers as well.

Looking down in embarrassment I mumbled a small apology before continuing to present the article I found in a few words I knew he’d understand. “I found something interesting.” I stated pointing down at the now crinkled newspaper.

Before he even looked at it I watched as he carefully straightened it out relieving every bend in his usual way. Finishing he started to read. Slowly a small smile crept across his perfect face, yes, James was handsome but that just added to the reasons why he was still my hero. At one point he had just been my hero who I never spoke to, now he was my friend as well.

“Finally something has come up.” He grinned carefully folding the newspaper before standing up and heading towards the door. He knew I would follow, I always did. Rushing to catch up I equaled my pace to his and we walked in silence towards the police station.

It wasn’t that far from his house really just a couple blocks, then again most things were close by. He lived in an apartment complex so there were loads of families living amongst each other. I did too but that was beside the point. James seemed impatient today and hailed a cab for us to take.

The ride, as all rides passed in silence. James quickly examined the driver and looked at me as if he expected me to do the same. No, correction he did expect it. Recently he had taken it upon himself to teach me how to analyze things, starting from people. I let my eyes run over the driver and the contents of the vehicle casually as James had taught me to occasionally stopping for a second on items that were a give away like the ash tray in the front but no ash on the man’s sleeves. So he wasn’t a smoker but he was prepared for people who were to enter in the vehicle without putting out their cigars. His messy hair and the large bags under his eyes that I could see in the rear view mirror said he had been sleeping on a cheaper mattress than he was used to and had hits some hard times. That was one thing about analyzing people, after you knew where they had been and what they had been doing you were either disgusted or pitying them.

The man’s accent said he was from the main city London and his attire was worn, hand me downs most likely confirming my original statement. He was struggling. As we pulled up next to the station James was about to pay in exact cash but I stopped him handing him twenty extra dollars before saying, “Keep the change” as I dragged James out. He would be mad at me for wrinkling his ironed shirt no doubt but at the moment I didn’t care.

I waved goodbye as the cab drove away pleased that I had helped the man at least a little bit. James straightened out his clothes and shook his head at me, “Loran you just gave away all of your allowance to someone who actually has a paying job. “ I shrugged slightly.

“He needed it” I stated simply.

James breathed deeply as if trying to calm himself. “No, he would have made due even if it meant getting involved with some shady actions. He has a wife and a newly born daughter who he is determined to care for.” He finished making me looked at him in amazement again.

Letting go of my breath I spoke, “Yep you always beat me. It is hopeless even trying…” I joked making him frown.

“I thought you wanted to solve puzzles?” He asked. Making me smile of course I did I was just playing with him. Honestly the majority of the time we only joked about morbid things. I figured we should joke about normal stuff too…As if reading my thoughts he spoke.

“We are not normal, and saying you don’t want to be interesting anymore isn’t funny.” He stated walking towards the door without waiting for me. Irritated I ran to catch up. I always had to run to try and catch up whether it was in intelligence or solving our little games he was always three steps ahead of me.

Panting I spoke, “So if I decided I was no longer interested in crimes then I would no longer be interesting?” I asked sincerely. We had been best friends for five years now, if this was seriously how far our friendship went then I felt slightly lost and empty. He was my only friend. At one point I had a few other friends but that was before I became friends with him. They had all thought he was odd, so I told them off and stayed beside him.

He seemed caught off guard by my questioned and looked at me as if I was a new found puzzle. “Yes, because if you stopped liking challenges then you wouldn’t be Loran Jones.” He stated with blunt honesty that made me relieved.

Nodding in agreement I took the steps two at a time and arrived ahead of James for once. Smiling broadly I opened the door as James chuckled lightly under his breath entering alongside me. The Secretary Evangeline smiled as she saw us enter. She had an extra coat of lip stick on and new eyeliner that made her eyes stand out much better than the overwhelming black one she usually wore. It was clear she had a date after she got off work that she was looking forward to and based on how happy she was it was most likely the lawyer Mr. Jacobson. He was okay looking I guess but he didn’t seemed to fit with her I thought disappointingly.

“Why am I not surprised to see you two here?” She asked. “I swear you guys are here every time we get an odd case. “ She stated with a smile showing off her mostly perfect teeth, she has one that was slanted ever so slightly to the right but it could go mostly unnoticed. We had been here every time there was an “odd” case as she called it because they were the only ones worth us coming here I thought forcing a smile.

James looked bored but still remembered to speak; I had been trying to get him to be more social so far it was a mission in progress. “Good morning Evangeline. I notice you bought a new blouse, it does look marvelous on you…next time I would suggest a shade lighter though because it would bring out the color of your hair more.” He complimented while giving advice. The way he said it sounded sincere but I knew he wasn’t. Yes, he meant what he said about how she could improve it but there were three wrinkles in her shirt that although not terribly obvious must be irritating James to no end.

It worked anyways and Evangeline smiled, “Why thank you James I will keep that in mind. You seem less shy now.” She added in an attempt to compliment him. Honestly I thought rolling my eyes. Shy? James was never shy he just never say any reason to speak to someone he deemed dimwitted like her. She was a secretary and for good reason. Most secretaries were intelligent but her job was pretty much just answering the phone and letting people in. It was mindless.

A sign rested neatly on the pale green wall behind her desk that I had memorized and found quite humorous each and every time. Employee’s only, not open to the public. On it there was an arrow pointing to the sturdy door that was located beside it. We entered through that door. It was a short cut to Detective Wilson’s office that was normally invitation only; we had an open invitation for any time that suited our fancy.

As we entered the office it was obvious he was a bit stressed his greying hair was sticking up a bit from where he had ran his fingers through it wearily. Paper work laid strewn across his old oak desk and his ancient computer was on open with at least seven different things running at once. He looked up and sighed as if his day just got worse by seeing us, “Sorry kids” He apologized, “We are in the middle of a real case. You can’t play around here right now. “

Beside me James looked like he was about to laugh, I on the other hand found myself thoroughly insulted. Sure we hadn’t been allowed onto a lot of the case but we had still found out who the guilty party was before they ever did. We were the ones who had handed them many of their perps and now he was acting as if we were just getting in the way. “Umm, we didn’t come here to play. We came here to help.” I informed him with a slight frown letting him know that I was not pleased by his incorrect assumption.

James smiled broadly and let out a small laugh. “No, we came here to play alright.” He looked into Detective Wilson’s eyes with amusement circling in his own dark brown eyes. “we came here to solve a puzzle.” James’ voice sounded as if he had just cracked a joke and admittedly I found in relatively funny. On the other hand Wilson clearly did not his stressed expression was replaced by an unamused one.

“Very funny James, now as I was saying you aren’t needed here.” I noticed one of the papers on his desk that I had originally assumed had escaped from one of various classic yellow files that scattered his desk was a letter. My eyes quickly scanned it to see if I could find any useful information, and it did. The information did not pertain to the case and instead to why he was so against us participating in this case. Their department was getting inspected to ensure that they were following protocol as they went about their jobs. Having fourteen year old kids around to solve the cases I guess didn’t exactly meet protocol.

Smiling slightly I spoke up, “Does you saying that have anything to do with the inspectors coming today?” I asked. His eyes widened in shock that he couldn’t cover up quickly enough. Yes, that was definitely it. I had already figured it was but I just wanted to make sure.

“How did you know?” He looked over the two of us then shook his head, “Oh, never mind I will never understand how you guys get your information he said exasperated. “Yes, every one of us could get fired for letting kids freely in and out of the department. We are supposed to keep everything quiet until a case is solved but we share information with fourteen year olds.” He shook his head. “I can only imagine what they would say if they found out that we have been letting you guys have free access to all of the cases since you were ten!” he exclaimed while I shrugged not exactly understanding the issue.

James laughed, “So you admit it. Yes, but if you don’t let us on the case it won’t be solved until this time next year.” He stated coldly. “Idiots” he muttered under his breath where only I could hear it.

“So the issue is that you have kids solving your more difficult cases?” I asked trying to make sure I understood. This was ridiculous! So what if we were fourteen, like he said we had been doing it for four years now. Every office knew us by name and not because we were criminals but because of our reputation. We were on a first name basis with nearly everyone in the entire department, well besides Detective Wilson, we treated him as if he was actually our boss…I did at least, James was a bit less respectful if respectful at all.

Wilson winced at my bluntly honest comment before nodding a pained expression etched into his face. “Yes, you can say it like that. “ I guess he didn’t like how I phrased my words but I didn’t like how he was trying to keep me off of this case. It had been weeks since there was something interesting!

“What are we supposed to do for the next week then while you are being inspected?” I asked completely confused. Summer time was so boring right now. Analyzing people could only provide so much entertainment. James was smiling out of the corner of his mouth at my comment but seemed to agree which made me pleased.

Wilson’s mouth dropped open slightly in annoyance. “You two do realize that murder is a bad thing right? Most people grieve for the loss of someone, or at least pity them. “ He tried. My eyebrows scrunched down in confusion. So we obviously weren’t most people? What was he trying to get at I wondered? All he was doing was stating a fact as a question.

James answered for me. “Yes, but most people are boring; at least in their deaths they provided some form of entertainment.” He spoke honestly. I must admit I wasn’t thrilled with his was of putting things put I clamped my mouth shut telling myself that I would deal with it later.

Detective Wilson lifted up his hands, “Another reason why I shouldn’t let you two on the cases. I feel as if I am turning you guys into monsters. You have seen what twenty dead bodies? Kids shouldn’t be exposed to this kind of thing.” Immediately I wanted to argue with him. I wasn’t a monster! Quite on the contrary I was kind, well somewhat kind. Firmly implanting the cabbie in my mind I convinced myself that I was most definitely not a monster.

A bored look appeared on James’ face. “Twenty seven technically and nothing you could do could ever turn us into monsters. If anything our actions are by choice. “He was right I mentally agreed counting through all of the different dead bodies we had examined in the morgue to make sure the cause of death was accurately listed in the reports. Sadly most of the time it wasn’t so people like us had to go in and correct them, well us, there was no one else like us.

The detective shook his head for about the thousandth time. “That is it I think I am going to reinstate our confidential policy. It is illegal to let any information spill out to anyone who is not on the case. “

“We are on the case” I interrupted impatiently. “and what is the point in kicking us out, like James said it just means your cases will never get solved?”

Wilson looked annoyed as he spoke louder than normal indicating that I had hit some sort of nerve. “We are perfectly capable of solving cases without the help of teenagers!”

“Not really” James said in an even voice still somewhat bored. Wilson shot him a death glare before pointing a finger towards the door signifying that we should leave. James nodded slightly before grabbing my wrist and leading us out of the room. We passed by Evangeline again who seem to realize she wasn’t supposed to let us in. Yet again I found myself board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All three of them loved to solve puzzles  
> They just took different paths  
> The Villain, the Hero, and the Secretary?  
> Two of them made sense but the third?  
> Well, she had her reasons.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------  
> I do NOT own Sherlock Holmes nor do I own any of the dialect that I use from it. What I do own is any additional characters I add into the story and my alterations to the original which make it a fan fiction. Admittedly my fan fiction starts out slower and all parts told from Sherlock's point of view up until the point when he meets my OC will be the same.
> 
> DO NOT COPY


	4. CH. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left Kudos on this work, because of you I shall now continue posting it up here . Also just a reminder any copying of my work and I will not hesitate to remove it. If you want it on another writing site tell me and I will put it there under MY name. I own this twist on the story and stealing it will not be taken kindly.

CH. 4

CH. 4  
SHERLOCK

 

I arrived at 221B Bakers Street to see John Watson already waiting outside knocking lightly on the wooden door of our soon to be flat. Beside the entrance door to our soon to be flat was a sandwich place, that I noted might come in handy if I was ever in need of a quick bit. The name though wasn’t very promising for anything other than a quick bit, Speedy’s Sandwich Bar and Café, yes even the name said it. “Hello” I greeted

“Ah, Mr. Holmes” He greeted me seeing me step out of the taxi.

“Sherlock, please”, I corrected. I never cared much for formalities.

John looked around a bit at the surrounding city before speaking, “Oh, this is a prime spot must be expensive. “ There was a nit of worry lacing his voice but mostly approval.

Not even looking around because I had already done so I explained, “Ah, Mrs. Hudson the landlady given me a special deal owes me a favor. Few years back her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida.”

John looked at me in amazement as if seeing me in a new light, “You stopped her husband from being executed?”

Incorrect I thought before correcting him, “No I ensured it” Not bothering to glance behind me to see what expression he wore I stepped inside as Mrs. Hudson’s friendly face welcomed me.

“Sherlock!” She exclaimed brightly in greeting.

Tilting my head ever so slightly I returned the greeting although definitely not as brightly as hers. Quickly I lead the way up stairs to the flat that I had already unpacked my things into dramatically opening the door when we got to it and letting John examine it for the first time.  
He looked around for a bit before responding, this was the most difficult time. We had to agree on the flat if we were both to pay rent for it. Finally John spoke relieving my nerves. “Well this could be very nice, very nice indeed.”

Beaming I responded looking around as well, “Yes, yes my thought exactly that is why I went straight ahead and moved in.” The last part we were both speaking during and made me stop.

“So we should probably straighten things up a bit” He looked apologetic and I started throwing things together to try and fix things up as he continued”…oh so this is all yours”

Clearing my throat as I plunged one of my knives into the cork above my fireplace I spoke. “Obviously I can,..um, straighten things up a bit”

“The skull?” He asked lightly clearing his throat. An explanation was obviously needed.

“Friend of mine…when I say friend…” I trailed off it would take too long to explain and I was not in the mood for it.

“What do you think then Doctor Watson?” Mrs. Hudson asked coming back in. “There is another bed room upstairs if you’ll be needing two.” She added.

“Of course we will be needing two!” John exclaimed indicting he was straight something I could honestly care less about.

“Don’t worry there are all sorts around here, Mrs. Turner next doors got…” Mrs. Hudson tried to reassure him pretending as if it was all some big secret. The whole thing was mindless so I blocked it. She got up and headed towards the kitchen exclaiming in disappointment directed at me, “Sherlock the mess you made!

Ignoring her I turned towards John who had seated himself in the light brown arm chair. “I looked you up on the internet last night. “ He stated making me stop for a second.

“Anything interesting?” I asked trying not to let my curiosity show.

“Found your website the science of deduction” He stated. Now I was really getting excited, the science of deduction was my life, although I would pretend whether or not people looked at my website mattered to me it quite honestly did and sadly people usually didn’t.

“What did you think?” I asked no longer to contain the entirety of my curiosity.

He looked at me as he spoke, “You said you could identify a software designed by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb.” His voice said he wasn’t sure he believed me so I went about doing a small amount of convincing.

“Yes, and I could read your military career in your face and your leg and your brother’s drinking habits from your mobile phone. “ I summed up quickly, that should be enough to convince him I thought to myself.

“How?” he asked another question I chose not to answer as Mrs. Hudson walked back in.

“What about these suicide’s then Sherlock. I thought they’d be right up your street, three exactly the same” She said trying to help me out. Yes, Mrs. Hudson understood me at least partially which was why I was so sold on this flat.

Something outside the window caught my attention as I corrected her. “Four, there has been a fourth…something different this time.” I stated looking out the window at Lestrade’s car parked outside. How exactly was it different I wondered eager to hear of it.

“A fourth?”, Mrs. Hudson questioned.

Steps echoed in the passage, the footsteps of Lestrade that I had long since memorized, “Where?” I asked turning in place to face him.

Immediately he responded. “Brickstone Arsten Gardens”

“What’s new you wouldn’t of come to get me if there was something different this time?” I inquired curiosity a bit evident in my words. 

“You know how they never leave notes?” He asked, “ This one did. Will you come?” Of course I would come I thought, but an assistant I needed an assistant.

“Who is on forensics?” I asked hoping it wasn’t the bloody idiot Anderson.

“It’s Anderson” He confirmed making me scrunch up my nose in disgust. I would need to get someone else I did not work well with Anderson.

“Anderson won’t work with me” I stated still a bit hyper for the need of something to distract my over active brain.

“Well he won’t be your assistant.” Lestrade pointed out trying to make the situation appear better.

“I need an assistant.” I reminded him pointing out what should have already have been obvious. It helped me think, having someone say what they believed had happened.

“Will you come?” He sighed pleadingly. Yes, he needed me, and I needed something to do. The answer was already obvious but I said it anyways.

“Not in the police car I will be right behind it.” I spoke quickly agreeing to participate. I was the one who had originally asked pretty much to be on the case if he did not remember but no matter.

“Thank you”, he sighed relieved and started heading out leaving me to get ready.

I waited until he was out of the room and couldn’t hold in my chuckle of excitement any longer. , “Brilliant!” I shouted literally jumping up in excitement. “Yes, ah four serial suicide’s and now a note ah, its Christmas!” I was overjoyed to say the least and my words showed it. “Mrs. Hudson I ‘ll be late might need some food.” I informed quickly as I grabbed my coat and started out the door.

“I am your land lady dear not your house keeper.” Mrs. Watson called after me as if I needed to be reminded.

“Something cold will due.” I assured her, “John have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don’t wait up for me!” I was excitedly on my way out before I stopped. I still needed an assistant. Turning in place I moved straight back to the door. Peaking my head through, I addressed John in a calm voice, “You’re a doctor. In fact you are an army doctor.”

“Yes”, He verified. His face showed that he was willing to assist me.

“Any good?” I questioned already knowing the answer. His entire presence said he was.

“Very good” He confirmed standing up his cane still in hand.

Stepping out from the door I continued quickly, “Seen a lot of injuries then, violent deaths?” Yet again I knew the answer. A good army doctor would have seen more than his fair share of deaths making him absolutely perfect, if he still wanted the job that is.

“Hmm yes” he mumbled his eyes still brimming with a want to join in on the excitement.

“Bit of trouble too I bet…” I said not even bothering to actually phrase it as a complete question.

“Of course yes, enough… for a life time… far too much” His words were saying one thing and his face another. Smiling I asked the next question.

“Want to see some more?” Instantly I was answered with a reply and a smile.

“Oh god yes” He was excited, wanting some more action and I figured he must have been bored since he got back from the war. As we  
hurriedly rushed down the stairs he shouted back a quick apology to the Mrs. Hudson, “Sorry Mrs. Hudson I’ll skip the tea and pop out.”

“Both of you” Mrs. Hudson said in a slightly confused and concern voice.

Turning abruptly I walk back to where Mrs. Hudson was watching us explaining happily. “Possible suicides four of them, there is no use sitting at home when there is finally something interesting going on. “ I finished kissing her on the cheek with happiness as I started to leave.

Mrs. Hudson shook her head lightly “Look at you all happy it is not decent.”

I widened my eyes lightly at her comment and exclaimed, “Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs., Hudson is on!” We headed down the stairs quickly and out the door. “ Taxi!” I hollered happily excited for the first time in a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All three of them loved to solve puzzles  
> They just took different paths  
> The Villain, the Hero, and the Secretary?  
> Two of them made sense but the third?  
> Well, she had her reasons.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------  
> I do NOT own Sherlock Holmes nor do I own any of the dialect that I use from it. What I do own is any additional characters I add into the story and my alterations to the original which make it a fan fiction. Admittedly my fan fiction starts out slower and all parts told from Sherlock's point of view up until the point when he meets my OC will be the same.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of a thank you all for your patience chapter...2 chapters in a day, not what I had planned but I suppose I do veer from my plans frequently.

CH. 5

CH. 5  
STILL FOURTEEN YEARS OLD  
(James and Loran)

 

The sound of the police station door shutting with me on the outside for the first time made me feel lonely. Yes, I still had James with me but what were we supposed to do if we weren’t allowed to solve any more cases? Were we supposed to try and be normal? The idea made shivers run down my spine, surely that was not what Detective Wilson had meant. While I was troubling over what to do with myself for the next week James seemed perfectly fine as if he was unaffected by the discussion we had just had. No, he was perfectly fine I realized watching him.

He was still holding my wrist I noted as he began to briskly walk down the pretty much empty sidewalk. Honestly I didn’t know where we were heading but asking could make me look like a fool. Debating whether or not to ask I soon realized that I didn’t even need to ask as I saw the direction we were heading. We were going to the morgue where the Reverend’s body would no doubt be waiting for us.

We stepped into the building without anyone interfering but that was about as far as we could go unquestioned. There was an unfamiliar man wearing a neatly tailored suit that although more wrinkled than James’ dress shirt and trousers still looked well cared for as if it was a position of authority. The badge neatly printed on the jacket of it showed he was the inspector the detective had been expecting. His hair was neatly gelled back and his shoes had some dried dirt near the base that he had missed. It was clear that he typically was a field officer but had been given a recent raise to the position of inspector. An unlawful one by the looks of it I determined.

If he was seriously the cause of us being kicked off the case then I decided it would be fun to unravel his own illegal activities. James on the other hand didn’t care as much he would make his own puzzles if he needed to. He had done things like that before for me, making puzzles that is. His greyish blue eyes examined us but not nearly as fast or as accurately I noticed as we had done to him.

“Good morning”, He greeted looking at the two of us annoyed. He attempted to sound friendly but it was clear he didn’t like kids too much although he had recently fallen under the category of one considering by his looks and the way he held himself screamed twenty seven.  
I already knew James wouldn’t speak to a complete idiot like him, well not as himself anyways he did act a bit for fun. “I suppose so I agreed.” The weather was quite lovely but in all honesty he had been the spoiler to my week so he didn’t deserve my kindness.

Behind him the security guard to the morgue who lived a couple houses down from me, an old friend of the family you could say except for the fact that my mother and father didn’t exactly like him that much for letting me in as much as he did. “Hello Charles” I greeted brightly waving my hand slightly.

“Oh! If it isn’t Loran and James, how nice of you two to stop by” His eyes silently pleaded with me to make up some other reason than seeing the Reverend’s body. Typically James made up the excuses, like I said he was an actor. I could lie pretty convincingly but I was nowhere near as good as James.

“Sorry Charles we didn’t realize you had company. We were planning on stopping by to remind you to have lunch. We know how you seem to forget when you get too wrapped up in your work. “ He stated as if he actually cared. Honestly I knew James didn’t, there weren’t very many people who he cared about at all and secretly I hoped I was one of them although with James it was hard to tell.

I nodded to reinforce his made up story. Charles nodded brightly relief showing on his thick face. “Ah, thank you. I can always rely on you guys. If you want I’ll be getting off soon and we can take lunch together?” He offered. To outsiders it was just a lunch invite but to us it was a promise. We were going to be let on the case, at least secretly.

“We’d love to.” I answered in a thankful tone. Honestly I was thankful now my week wouldn’t be mindlessly boring. James and I exited the building without another look at the supposed investigator. As we turned he began to question the security guard on how things were normally run down at the police station. If he thought he was going to get anything out of anyone he was most definitely wrong. No one dared to admit they were being helped by a pair of fourteen year old kids.

The investigation no doubt was about the alarming rate that the crimes were solved. Our record was two minutes but to be honest that one had been way too easy although the police had been puzzled by it. James and I walked to the local bakery almost at a loss of what to do. All of the cases were getting boring now days, we didn’t have to say it aloud we both knew it. Soon we were going to have to either move to where things were more interesting or we would have to find a different hobby.

About a half an hour after waiting in the pristine deli which was the only place James would order food from because he said the rest were too fifthly although they looked fine to me, Charles arrived with a brief case no doubt containing information on the case. No longer bothering with the introductions he set the case open down in front of us on the table and ordered some food. We didn’t often talk except to each other when solving a puzzle.

Pulling out the folder I scanned through the reports as James laid out the pictures of the reverend across the table and stared at each of them for a bit. The information said the time of death was around nine thirty at night a day ago. His wallet had been found empty and his home had been broken into. Disappointment filled me as I realized just how dreadfully easy this case had become.

The “good” reverend had obviously been in debt. How was the only question, in his sermons he always warned against the vices of debt and gambling so I figured if he had done one he was guilty of both. James would not doubt not except that as a well backed answer so I waited as he drew up his own conclusion.

When he spoke his eyes were emotionless, bored if anything. “See through, absolutely see through. He was pulled out his phone as he began to search something up and continued. “The Reverend was injected with a slow killing poison and left to die due to his gambling debt that he secured when he was on a vacation two months ago. Recently he has been shaky, slightly jumpy, and sweats more when he hears heavy foot steps so he suspected it. He missed his meeting on Thursday with the Brighton’s so he met up with his killers who he was indebted to between six and six thirty. They no doubt discussed things for the a couple hours the Reverend trying to make it seem like he could pay when he could not because he also recently paid for his wife’s hospital bill.” I blinked in surprise at that part of it. Mrs. Higginson was in the hospital? Since when I wondered as he continued glad I had let him do the talking.

James passed his phone to Charles which had a group photo of people wearing the same uniform, a bar uniform by the looks of it. “Three of the men in that photo would be the people you are looking for. If I were you I would rule out the youngest his shoe size doesn’t fit any of the ones your people photographed based on the proportions of his feet in this picture it was the greying haired man on the right end and probably the two men standing next to him. “ He finished taking a breath a sip of water that had just been dropped off. Sadly, it was my cup leaving me with the soda he had ordered.

“How did you…?” Charles began before shaking his head. “Never mind I don’t think I want to know. “ He looked between us sadly for a moment before speaking again. “Really you two belong in college or something not getting yourselves mixed up in murder cases. When are you going to skip ahead in classes?” He asked. I shrugged slightly.

“Murder cases are fun” I explained. James texted Detective Wilson the information as I shot him a questioning look but saved my question for when Charles left. It took another twenty minutes before we could leave the deli and head home, well to James’ house. My mother and father were always terribly rude to him we met at my house so we typically just hung out at his. His mother had long since gone insane from having to deal with James, and I well I wasn’t much help there either.

“How did you know?” I asked finally as the cab deposited us off on the sidewalk outside the complex.

He turned to me with a slightly confused look on his face. “Know what?” He asked seemingly not getting what I was asking. I suppose it had been awhile since I had the question drifting through my head so I explained.

“How did you know who did it…I only knew he was in debt and got killed from it, well I knew he gambled” I corrected quickly. “I never would have guessed the murder just from that though. “ I admitted looking down at the ground.

James sighed heavily, “I looked it up…” He stated moving his phone back and forth in his hands. “The Reverend isn’t typically a drinker but I knew he was going to visit his son who we all know is a drunk.” That much was true the Reverend had mentioned it a time or two. “His son was never on the best of terms with his parents leading to the fact that the reverend had to actually go out of his way to locate his son. Now locating his son wouldn’t be that hard when there are only a couple of bars within a walking distance of his son’s apartment so it had to be this one.” He explained pulling up a map of it on Google images. “Once you figure out that you have to realize that the bar also was open for gambling at night which it would have been and as you said the Reverend was a gambler.”

“The men then?” I asked wanting him to explain further to be honest by now I already knew the answer but I didn’t care it was fun to watch James explaining things. He narrowed his eyes slightly at me before speaking.

“You are not stupid Loran you should have been able to figure that out yourself. “ He pointed out earning a disappointed sigh from me.

Pouting slightly I spoke, “Yeah I know it is just fun to see you actually talking. “ I said changing my face into a smile. He rolled his eyes as we walked into his bedroom which of course didn’t exactly looked lived in. Plopping down on his office chair I began to try hacking into his computer for about the hundredth time. Every day he changed it sometimes more than that. I glanced down at the keys carefully but he had been sure to press every single button an equal amount of times.

James just laughed at me as he leaned over me watching me try. It was nearly impossible to think with James Moriarty so close, like I had said I did not like him…I didn’t not as anything more than a friend but I could still admit that he was good looking. He always smelled the same, clean with the same soaps, laundry soaps and everything. It was a fresh smell that seemed flawless. Pushing that thought out of my mind I began to try different things. James never recycled passwords, absolutely never so it had to be new I told myself mentally x-ing off all of the old ones. It left four hundred combinations…On top of that he had his computer to where it would automatically lock after ten attempts.

I had to use almost all of those ten attempts before I got it on the ninth one receiving an applause from James who was still uncomfortably close, well comfortable but uncomfortable that it was comfortable. Augh! My mind was wandering in circle I complained to myself wanting to bang my head into the table.

“Good job” James grinned before quickly changing the password again, a little too quickly. Usually he would let me play around on his computer a bit before he changed the password, as a sort of reward but he seemed like he was hiding something. It wasn’t my birthday; there was no special occasion to surprise anyone with so it was something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. James wasn’t into pornography so it definitely wasn’t that either. His smile said there was nothing wrong but his actions had already betrayed him.

“What are you hiding?” I asked looking straight at him with a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and confrontation.

He smiled, “You’ll see eventually.” He promised. “I am creating a puzzle for you to solve.”

My eyes instantly lit up and I hugged him happily. I loved puzzles and it would be the perfect thing to counter the boredom I was facing so far this summer. “Thank you.” He hugged me back before I stepped away my smile changing into a warning frown. “You better be quick about it because it is already way too boring around here. “ I added.

He grinned understandingly, “Trust me it will be worth waiting for. When I am done you will never be bored again.” Those words made me curious. They should have warned me that something was the matter. Sadly I didn’t know what they meant until it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All three of them loved to solve puzzles  
> They just took different paths  
> The Villain, the Hero, and the Secretary?  
> Two of them made sense but the third?  
> Well, she had her reasons.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------  
> I do NOT own Sherlock Holmes nor do I own any of the dialect that I use from it. What I do own is any additional characters I add into the story and my alterations to the original which make it a fan fiction. Admittedly my fan fiction starts out slower and all parts told from Sherlock's point of view up until the point when he meets my OC will be the same.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always any copying or altering of my work will not be permitted and I would really like to thank all of you who have taken the time to read this story. It really does mean a lot to me. Comments are something I would really appreciate, and at the moment I believe this story is comment-less. Please everyone take the time to comment, it would really be appreciated on my part and encourage me to post up the updates faster.

CH. 6  
CH. 6  
SHERLOCK

 

We were heading towards the scene of the fourth serial suicide victim and it was clear John wanted to question me. For a few seconds I remained silent trying to entertain myself on my cellular phone but grew impatient. If he was going to question me he should do it already sighing slightly I spoke, “Okay you got questions.”

He looked out the window before meeting my eyes “Yeah where are we going?”

That one was an easy one I thought but I was aware that it wasn’t even close to his only question so I answered while letting him know that I was aware he wasn’t finished. “Crime scene next…”

He glanced at me some genuine curiosity in his eyes. “Who are you? What do you do?”

It was obvious this was his real question but I didn’t want to answer it without first seeing what he believed I was. He had already witnessed the police coming to me for help surely he had some idea of what I was. An outsider’s opinion on me would be interesting. “What do you think?” I asked doing my best to not sound curious in any way. All he had to know was that I planned on answering him. Letting him know I was curious was not something I was about to do.

A thoughtful look spread across his face as he glanced out the window to speak. He seemed to think better while looking out of the window. “I would say private detective…”

“But …?” I asked, well stated really. It was clear from the way he said it that he didn’t really believe I was a private detective. Of course I wasn’t a private detective but hearing why he figured out I wasn’t a private detective would be interesting.

He looked at me as he spoke a bit of confusion lacing his voice, “Police don’t go to private detectives.”

There it was I thought smiling inside. Looking ahead out of the front window I answered his question finally. “I’m a consulting detective, the only one in the world. I invented the job”

Blinking his eyes in confusion John spoke again, “What does that mean?”

Breathing I explained, “Means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me.” Yes, the police, and everybody seemed to be small minded and limited in thought. Things always had to be in neat categories for them, no puzzles, and no confusion. Sadly for them life was not like that, and of course happily for me.

John shook his head in disbelief. “Police don’t consult ammeters.” He pointed out aggravating me a bit. I most certainly was not an ammeter. Even the idea of him mistaking me for one was slightly offensive.

Glancing back towards the front window I decided to prove that I was by no means an ammeter. “When I met you for the first time yesterday I said Afghanistan or Iraq. You look surprised.”

“Yes, how did you know?” He inquired. Yes, of course he had been wondering that I thought to myself before quickly answering him.

“I didn’t know I saw. Haircut, the way you hold you hold yourself said military. And your conversation as you entered the room said trained at bar your face is tan but no tan above the wrist you have been abroad but not sunbathing. Limp’s really bad when you walk but you don’t ask for a chair when you stand like you’ve forgotten about it…The original circumstances of it were traumatic which mean wounded in action sometime Afghanistan or Iraq” I recited quickly my thoughts almost mirroring the words coming out of my mouth which was indeed rare for me. It was easy enough, simple even to deduce that much.

“You said I had a therapist?” He said still not sure how I had come up with all of this information on him.

“With a slightly traumatic limp of course you’ve got a therapist.” I exclaimed surprised he didn’t realize how I came to that conclusion. It was too obvious, even people of average intelligence like him should be able to understand how I came to that conclusion.

I was by no means finished. It excited me sharing what I had discovered. Most of the time I was not awarded the opportunity to show people what I had discovered about them. In fact I analyzed everyone but only explained 1/100th of what I had seen. “Then there is your brother your phone is expensive email, labeled, MP3 player. When you are looking for a flat share you wouldn’t waste money on this it’s a gift then. Scratches, not one many other times had been in the same pocket as keys and coins. Not many people would treat a phone they buy like this so it’s had a previous owner. The next bit is easy you know it already.” Yes, I was enjoying this my thoughts running almost equally with the words I hurriedly spoke.

“The engraving” John breathed actually understanding it this time well, at least he could grasp something that simple then I thought a little less disappointed in him.

Smiling to myself I continued, “Harry Watson, clearly family member who has given you his old phone, not your father, this is a young man’s gadget. Could be a cousin but you are a war hero who can’t find a place to live. Unlikely you’ve got an extended family certainly not one your close to. So brother it is, so Clara who’s Clara? The attachment and expense of the phone says wife not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently this phone is only six months old. Now the trouble than six months old and he is just giving it away. If she’d left him he would have kept it for sentimental reasons but he wanted to get rid of it that meant he left her. He gave the phone to you meaning he wants you to stay in touch. You are looking for cheap accommodation and you are not going to your brother for help? Says you got problems with him says maybe you liked his wife but you’ve got problems with his drinking. “ I finished this time actually relating to him my thoughts on the matter. Thinking aloud, it really helped me at times, this time though it was only an explanation not something I was actually finding a difficult time solving.

John breathed while slowly speaking confusion still in his voice but not as dominant as it was before. “How could you possibly know about the drinking?”

I smirked. “Shot in the dark good one though power connection tells you the scuff marks on it. Every night he goes to plug it in but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a drunken man’s phone you never see a drunks without them. There you go seems you were right.” It was simple really when you thought about it. I had seen plenty of phones, and so far this is what I had come to discover.

“I was right, right about what? “ He asked confused.

“The police don’t consult ammeters.” I spoke my pride finally coming to a rest. Yes, I was definitely not an ammeter.

“That was amazing.” He stated in awe. An odd reaction, but definitely one that pleased me.

“You think so? “ I questioned with a smile.

“Of course it was, extraordinary, quite extraordinary.” His voice was sincere. The compliment surprised me and made me smile. Is reaction was different, very different from most people’s but definitely more enjoyable.

“That’s not what people normally say.” I informed him.

“What do people normally say?” He asked only slightly curious.

“Piss off.” I finished with a slight smile playing at the corner of my mouth. John beamed as he shook his head slightly going back to looking out of the window.

“Did I get anything wrong?” I asked waiting for a point where I was incorrect. My deductions could only be so accurate and I always seemed to be incorrect on one point.

As he limped forward with the help of his cane he spoke. “Harry and me don’t get along, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago they are getting a divorce. Harry is a drinker…”

Smiling to myself I was elated. For once it seemed I had gotten everything correct. “Spot on then I didn’t expect to be right about everything.”

“Harry is short for Harriet “ John interrupted causing me to stop my mental celebration.

“Harry is you sister?” I asked although it wasn’t really a question.

“What am I supposed to be doing here?” John asked but that wasn’t what I was thinking about at the moment.

“Your sister!” I hissed irritated at myself. I always got something wrong. How had it been this wrong?

“No seriously…” John began again.

“Always something” I complained in a not so pleasant mood.

Sally Donovan’s voice interrupted my thoughts as I walked up to the yellow caution tape. “Hello freak” She spouted in her usual greeting.

“I am here to see Inspector detective Lestrade” I informed her.

“Why?” She asked snappily although she already knew exactly why.

“I was invited.” I informed her

“Why?” She repeated as if the question would make it so that she could prevent me from entering the scene.

“I think he wants me to take a look” I explained as if I was speaking to a small child which she pretty much was. Probably slower than a kindergartener with the way she thought.

Her face scrunched up into a look of disgust as she spoke her voice nasally, “Well you know what I think”

“Always Sally, even though you didn’t make it home last night.” I returned looking at her with a slight bit of confusion as I ducked under the yellow tape. Deodorant, the deodorant she was wearing was belonging to a male. She was unmarried and so far unable to get a boyfriend.

“Well, who’s this?” Sally asked confused yet still quite rude which was common for her. In fact it was probably why she had been so far unable to settle down. No one wanted to listen to an idiot’s constant rudeness.

“Colleague of mine Doctor Watson, Doctor Watson Sergeant Sally Donovan” I hurriedly greeted still using a bit of manners that stood out in comparison to Miss Donovan's lack of using them.

A mocking smile spread across her face as she looked up at me. “A colleague, how do you get a colleague?” She looked at John before asking, “What did he follow you home?

John looked slightly uncomfortable and seemed as if he considered it intruding to follow. “Wouldn’t it be better if I just waited?”

“Nope,” I replied quickly lifting up the caution tape for his to follow. Hesitantly he ducked a bit to come through and followed as I started towards the entrance.

Sally grabbed her radio and alerted everyone of my arrival, “Freak’s here bringing him in.”

Seeing Anderson I almost wished I could move to avoid him. Anytime spent in his presence felt as if it was lowering my intelligence. Sadly of course he stood right at the entrance so I had to confront him. “Oh, Anderson, here we are again.” I greeted lightly.

He looked at me his nose automatically scrunching up and his talent of speaking through his nose was most definitely still in use, “It’s a crime scene I don’t want it contaminated are we clear on that?” He asked as if he was superior to me in some way. Really it was quite pathetic.

He smelled, yes, the deodorant…“Quite clear, and is your wife away for long?” I asked.

“Oh don’t pretend you’ve worked that out somebody told you that.” Anderson accused as if he had discovered the hidden secret to my knowledge.

“Your deodorant told me that.” I quickly stated fighting the urge to roll my eyes at him. I didn’t need someone to tell me something so obvious. Anyone could smell. 

“My deodorant?” He asked still not getting what I was talking about. Really he showed the limit of his mind with every word he spoke. He really needed to learn to shut his mouth and maybe, just maybe he might manage to fool people into thinking he actually had some intelligence.

“It’s for men,” I explained simply.

“Well of course it’s for men I am wearing it.” Anderson spoke as if I was the idiot here. Why was he unable to understand I wondered in amazement? Yes, the only thing that ever amazed me about Anderson was his stupidity. Most people had a limit…his seemed endless.

“So is Sergeant Donovan.” I finally said. Maybe he would understand that. Him and Donovan exchanged looks. “ohh I think it just vaporized…”

“Now look what ever you are trying to imply…” Anderson began as if he could cover it up.

Cutting him off I reassured him as I passed them both heading inside. “I am not trying to imply anything I am sure Sally just came round for a nice little chat and just happened to stay over and look she scrubbed your floors judging by the state of her knees.” On a table close to the entrance Lestrade was zipping up his protective suit that would prevent any polluting of the crime scene. Tossing John a spare on lying on the table I informed him. “You should wear one of these.”

“Who is this?” Detective Lestrade asked looking at John in confusion.

“He is with me.” I replied letting him know it was okay.

“But who is he?” Lestrade continued.

“I said he is with me” I returned growing impatient.

“Aren’t you going to put one on?” John asked me after getting his suit on. No, I mentally answered. I never wore them, they looked odd, and didn’t fit my position.

“So where are we?” I asked Lestrade looking up at the multiple winding stair cases.

“Upstairs, I can give you two minutes” Lestrade answered as we began the long walk up the multiple flights.

Two minutes I thought to myself. Depending on the case I figured I might need a bit more time. “I may need longer.” I admitted.

“Her name’s Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards, hasn’t been here long, some kids found her.” Lestrade briefed me on what they knew so far. As always it was pretty much nothing.

Silently I examined the room. I could feel Lestrade thinking a bit behind me…he was inaccurate, he nearly always was, “Shut up”

“I didn’t say anything” Lestrade frowned confused at my seemingly sudden command.

You were thinking it’s annoying. “I informed him and only barely noticed him exchanging looks of exasperation with John. Her hand closest to the scratched out words was her left…left handed then. My eyes scanned the letters on the wooden floor. R.A.C.H.E…could be German for revenge…but, the positioning of her hand showed she wasn’t finished. It was Rachel. Coat was wet. Umbrella dry, under her collar was wet. All of her jewelry but her wedding ring was clean so she was unhappily married judging by the look of it for 10+ years. The inside was clean so it was regularly removed, serial adulterer. 

“Got anything?” Lestrade asked

“Not much.” I informed him, not enough at least. I pulled off my gloves and started reaching for my phone. Anderson’s irritating voice broke through my thoughts.

“She’s German, Rache , German for revenge she could be trying to tell us something.” Anderson defined trying to show off his knowledge in the most pathetic of ways. Incorrect Anderson I thought moving to the door where he stood just outside of the doorway.

“Yes thank you for your impute” I stated dismissively slamming the door neatly shut to block out the idiot’s impute.

“So she’s German?” Lestrade asked ready to believe even the idiot Anderson.

Doing a quick search on my phone for a place with heavy rain storms near here I found that there was only one fitting the exact type that her clothing suggested she had been in. “Of course not she is from out of town though intending to stay in London for one night before returning to Cardiff so far so obvious.” I corrected.

“I’m sorry obvious?” John asked stunned.

“What about the message?” Detective Lestrade asked.

“John what do you think?” I asked wanting someone else’s input, someone besides Anderson who was automatically incorrect with every assumption.

“About the message?” John asked looking back at the closed door.

Mentally rolling my eyes I corrected him, “About the body you’re a medical doctor.”

“But wait we have a whole team outside” Lestrade reminded me motioning towards the door obviously not happy that I was disregarding the whole lot of them and consulting a complete stranger to him although he should already have seen him back at the flat. Introducing him when he should already know who he was irritated me so I had skipped it.

“They won’t work with me” I pointed out. Lestrade already knew what I thought of them so no further explanation was needed.

Sighing he exclaimed “,I am breaking every rule letting you in here!” Yes, he still cared about following protocol but with the idiots aboard his team it was impossible to rely on them. 

“Yes because you need me.” I interrupted.

He looked at me for a second before caving, “Yes I do, god help me.”

“Dr. Watson.” I motioned towards him. Feedback time I thought to myself. A doctor’s opinion on the matter might prove to be helpful in coming up with more and one who already seemed quite a bit more intelligent than this lot should definitely prove to be more beneficial. Other people’s opinions helped me think if they were intelligent enough.

John glanced at Lestrade for permission which he was given. “Oh do what he says help yourself.” He I gave in before hollering down to Anderson outside of the room, “Anderson keep everyone out for a few minutes. “

“Well?” I asked awaiting his analysis.

John looked slightly annoyed as he leaned his arm on his leg kneeling halfway next to the body. “What am I doing here?” He asked.

“Helping make a point” I explained simply. It should have been obvious enough. People rarely asked the opinion of others unless they wanted something out of it.

“I am supposed to help me pay the rent.” He reminded me irritably.

“Yes, but this is more fun” I announced with a smile. I loved the more puzzling crimes and this one was definitely one of them. It gave my mind something to think about, kept me from being bored.

“Fun?” John whispered “, there is a woman lying on the floor dead.” He tried.

Pursing my lips in disappointment I spoke. “Perfectly sound analysis but I was hoping you would go a little deeper.” He was correct but anybody could have told me that…Even Anderson.

“Disfixation in the lungs passed out chocked on her own vomit can’t smell any alcohol in her could have been a seizure possibly a…drug" He trailed off.

“You know what it was you read the paper.” I revealed letting him know exactly what this case was. It seemed he was unaware although he should have picked that up from what Mrs. Hudson said back at the flat.

“She is one of the suicides” He stated numbly.

Lestrade seemed to be at an end of his patience. “Sherlock two minutes I said and that’s the only thing you got?”

Sighing I began reciting what I had come up with. “Victim is in her late thirties, professional person going by her clothes and guessing something in the media going by her frankly alarming shade of pink. Traveled from Cardiff today and planning on only staying one night it is obvious from the size of her suitcase.”

“Suitcase?” Lestrade questioned his brow scrunched up.

Yes she had a suitcase, she was traveling and she had certain splash marks on the back of her tights. “Suitcase yes, she has been married for at least ten years but not happily she has had a string of lovers but none of them knew she was married.” I continued explaining.

“Oh for god’s sake you’re just making this up” Lestrade accused with a large amused smile on his face as he stood in his blue protective clothing arms folded over his chest.

Making it up I thought to myself, as if. Explaining how I had come to the conclusions seemed to be necessary yet again. “Her wedding ring ten years old at least. All her jewelry has been regularly cleaned but not her wedding ring state of her marriage right there. The inside of her ring is shiny but not the outside that means it is regularly removed the only polishing it gets is when she works it off of her finger. It is not for work judging by her nails she doesn’t work with her hands then what or rather who does she remove it for? Clearly not one lover she would never maintain the depiction of being single for that amount of time so more likely a string of them.”

“That’s brilliant,” John breathed in absolute amazement. Glancing at Lestrade he apologized “, Sorry”

“Cardiff?” Lestrade inquired not sure how I had figured out that bit of information.

“It’s obvious isn’t it?” I asked…The weather, her coat, the umbrella? How had they not discovered it themselves? I looked at the two of them who both wore blank expressions on their faces. “

“It’s not obvious to me.” John admitted.

Once again I looked between the two of them and realized they must not have picked up on it. “Oh dear god what is it like in your tiny little brains it must be so boring. Her coat is slightly damp she has been in heavy rain in the last few hours there has been no rain in London during that time. Under her collar is damp too she has turned it up against the wind. She has got an umbrella in her left hand pocket but it is dry and unused. Not just wind, strong wind, too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight so she must have come a decent distance but she can’t have traveled more than two or three hours because her coat is still hasn’t dried. So where has there been heavy rain and strong within that travel time? Cardiff.” I finished showing them the weather reports in Cardiff.

“That’s fantastic!” John exclaimed making me smile lightly. Praise, it was marvelous.

“Do you know you do that out loud?” I asked curious, his tone said he was just thinking aloud.  
John closed his mouth for a second. “Sorry I’ll shut up”

“No, it is fine.” I confirmed. The compliments were perfectly okay, not annoying in the slightest. Honestly I would prefer it if he kept on complimenting me…it was refreshing.

“Why do you keep saying suitcase?” Lestrade asked interrupting my thoughts.

My mind snapped back to the case as I thought out loud. “Yes, now where is it. She must have had a phone or an organizer, find out who Rachel is…”

“She was writing Rachel?” Lestrade asked curiously

“No, she was writing Rache in German” I stated sarcasm dripping from my every word. “…of course she was writing Rachel, now the question is why did she wait until she was dying to write it?” I finished thinking aloud. Rachel, what was so important about the name? What was she trying to tell me?

“How do you know she had a suitcase?” Lestrade asked confusion way too clear in his voice.

I sighed glancing back down at the dirt splash tights of the deceased woman in front of me, “Back of the right leg tiny splash marks on the heel and calf not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand can’t get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish case going by the spread, case that size, woman this clothes conscious. Can only be an overnight case so we know she was staying one night.” I explained before scanning the room with my eyes in an attempt to locate the case that would no doubt be a matching pink to her coat, “Now where is it? What have you done with it?”

Lestrade just stared at me before shaking his head. “There wasn’t a case.”

I froze at his words. They didn’t make sense. She clearly had a case, the splash marks indicated it…and a phone, she must have brought a phone with her as well. “Say that again?” I commanded in a whisper. If she didn’t have her case with her then someone else must have been here proving that it was murder…Still there still might have been a case found.

“There wasn’t a case. There was never any suitcase.” Lestrade spoke clearly as I got up and rushed out of the room.

“Suitcase! Can anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?” I asked addressing the people outside of the room. Surely someone had seen it. Maybe that hadn’t reported it to Lestrade yet.

Lestrade’s voice echoed down from where he stood at the highest platform of the stairs. “Sherlock there is no case.”

I was now two flights below Lestrade as I looked up at him. “They take the poison themselves. They chew swallow the pills themselves, there are clear signs even you lot couldn’t miss them. “

He didn’t understand what I was getting at. It was obvious, his face screamed out his confusion for him. “  
All right well thanks, and?”

“It’s murder, all of them I don’t know how. They are not suicides they’re killings, serial killings. We got ourselves a serial killer. I love those, there is always something to look forward to. “ I explained my thought mixing with my words.

“Why are you saying that?” Lestrade hollered down from atop the stairs his voice sounding stupid because of the obviousness of what I was talking about.

Breathing in mentally rolled my eyes. Come on surely he understood what I was referring to? “Her case, come on where is her case? Did she eat it? Someone else was here and they took her case. So the killer must have driven her here, forgot the case was in the car. “Again my thoughts mixed neatly with my explanation. Yes, the killer had definitely driven her here which meant the case was still in the car or dumped along the side of the road after he realized it was still there.

“She could have checked into a hotel and left her case there?” Lestrade attempted struggling to maintain the idea that all of these were suicides.

I looked up at him surprised he could be so stupid. “No she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair! She color coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She’d never have left any hotel with her hair still looking…” I paused and clapped my hands in triumph before mumbling to myself”, Serial killers are always hard, have to wait for them to make a mistake. “

“We can’t just wait!” Lestrade yelled down hopefully for his sake without thinking. 

I stopped going down the stairs for a second and yelled back up at him. “Oh, we are done waiting, look around, really look. Houston we have a mistake! Get on to Cardiff, find out who Jenifer Wilson’s family and friends were. Find out who Rachel is. “ I ordered.  
Lestrade still looked confused “Okay of course but what mistake?”

Rushing out I hollered back over my shoulder. “Pink!” I had to find her suitcase…Shouldn’t be too hard. A suitcase of that shade of pink would stick out. The driver would have noticed that it was still in the vehicle before he went too far and would have tried to get rid of it…Now to find that case. Excitement was filling me as I rushed off away from the scene of the crime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All three of them loved to solve puzzles  
> They just took different paths  
> The Villain, the Hero, and the Secretary?  
> Two of them made sense but the third?  
> Well, she had her reasons.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------  
> I do NOT own Sherlock Holmes nor do I own any of the dialect that I use from it. What I do own is any additional characters I add into the story and my alterations to the original which make it a fan fiction. Admittedly my fan fiction starts out slower and all parts told from Sherlock's point of view up until the point when he meets my OC will be the same.


	7. Ch. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always no copying of my works will be permitted and I would like to thank everyone who has read my story so far with a special thanks extended to http://archiveofourown.org/users/savvy_bori93/pseuds/savvy_bori93 (Not sure if that will bring up a link but the name is savvy_bori93), who is the only person so far to comment. Visitors and actual members have the ability to comment and comments do tend to encourage me to update faster so commenting would be in your favor as a reader. Thank you so much for reading and leaving Kudos on my work and enjoy the chapter!

CH. 7

CH.7  
STILL FOURTEEN YEARS OLD  
(James & Loran)

 

For the rest of the week the computer’s password was changed before I could even glimpse at anything. James seemed determined to surprise me with whatever it was he was hiding. It wasn’t that I didn’t like surprises but I didn’t like not being able to solve something. James had always been an unsolvable puzzle when compared to the rest of the occupants of town but I was still determined to eventually figure him out as well. Currently I was leaning my head against the marble counter of the bar in Mrs. Moriarty’s kitchen. In comparison to the rest of the place it felt cool and refreshing. Breathing deeply I wondered what it was that he was hiding from me.

He said I would never be bored again once he was done. Was he making a puzzle? Perhaps he was creating a game of sorts. He had done it before, creating a computer game that was but I had always been able to beat those. Was he simply over exaggerating? No, James rarely exaggerated anything. He made things dramatic but he also kept them from becoming tall tales in any sense of the phrase. The sound of Mrs. Moriarty’s heels clicking against the wood of the kitchen floor caused me to open my eyes. Mrs. Moriarty was typically at work during this time of day why was she here?

“Tired, Honey?” she asked opening the fridge and glancing inside. Moving a few things around she seemed to locate the item she was looking for. Since it wasn’t quite lunch time I figured she was pulling out some sort of treat. As I expected a platter of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies emerged wrapped in a thin layer of plastic wrap.

Lifting my head I sighed. “No, but James won’t let me in his room at the moment. “ I explained my eyes quickly scanning over her. She appeared to be favoring her right thumb slightly and it was a shade off of its normal color making me realize she must have burned herself making the cookies for me yesterday. Jim rarely ate anything sweet since he said that they were typically too addicting and messy so Mrs. Moriarty only ever made them for me.

“How is your finger?” I questioned a bit of sincere concern in my voice. I was sure it would heal but the idea that she had burnt herself making sweets that she clearly intended to share with me made me slightly sad and grateful at the same time. Yes, Mrs. Moriarty had always been friendly towards me when she wasn’t busy with work, work that she honestly didn’t need to do when you took into account the fortune she already had but she despised being idle. Honestly I couldn’t blame her since idleness typically equaled boredom.

She glanced up slightly confused, “How did you know?” Seeing my face she shook her head causing her lightly curled dark brown hair to move slightly, “Never mind. You and James both, there is never hiding anything from the two of you. “My eyes lightened. I had just been compared to James! The idea was more than enough to compliment me although I was sure she hadn’t meant it as such.

“You were favoring your thumb.” I pointed out simply always eager to share how I had come to realize things.

She nodded as she unwrapped the cookies. “Would you like one?” She asked me already handing me two. Something seemed off about the way she was acting…her voice was a little more on edge than normal. Accepting the cookies I nodded still not moving my eyes from her as she glanced nervously towards the door of James’ room. She was wearing casual clothes instead of her typical business attire indicating that she was planning on staying home. It was a week day so it wasn’t like she didn’t have work she could be doing…The way she kept on glancing towards James’ door made me wonder if her and James had gotten into an argument while I wasn’t here. James didn’t mention any but then again James rarely mentioned his mom anyways. My thoughts were interrupted by a question, “Loran, does James seem to be acting strangely to you?” She asked me not moving her eyes from the door.

I laughed lightly. What did she mean by strange? James was always acting strange. “According to what standard?” I asked making her look at me with visibly thinning patience.

“According to your standard, lord knows you are the person who knows him the best.” She sighed but her eyes bore into mine waiting for an answer. It was obvious she was worried about James but I couldn’t really imagine why, for the most part he was his normal self.

I shrugged, “Perhaps, he said he was doing something and he won’t let me on his computer. Other than that he is acting the same. “I explained before scrunching up my eyebrows and returning my gaze to hers. “Aren’t you his mother? Shouldn’t you know better than me if something is off?” I questioned. She winced at my words and her eyes dimmed to a saddened state.

“You know James rarely speaks to me…He always appears to be well behaved but recently your mother and father have been badgering me about the activities the two of you have been doing.” My mouth went into an “o” shape as I stared down at the cookies in my hands. Although it wasn’t surprising that James wasn’t on the best of terms with his mom I was feeling slightly guilty about the issues that originated on my end. “Loran have you two really been going down to the morgue?” She asked me catching me off guard.

It wasn’t like we had been trying to keep it a secret, what really surprised me was that she had no knowledge of it. “Yes,” I confirmed making a frown slip across her lightly coated pink lips.

“Why?” She asked me although it didn’t seem wholly addressed to me but rather towards the world in general. “What could you two possibly find entertaining over there?” She pondered in hopeless confusion. Not knowing what to say I just started eating the first cookie not wanting the chocolate to melt all over my hands. Why hadn’t James told her about it I wondered as I savored the delicious flavor of oatmeal and chocolate together? “Whose idea was it?” She finally asked looking up at me with a flicker of hope that confused me.

Swallowing the delectable sweet I spoke, “James’ why? I agreed of course.” I added not wanting to get him into any trouble.

She let out a long breath that seemed to include all of her hopes for something I couldn’t quite grasp. “I thought you two were only playing around.” She mumbled speaking mainly to herself.

“We still are,” I admitted looking at her confused. “We are solving the puzzles that the police can’t figure out. “ She looked at me with a withering stare. She seemed to have aged three years in our brief conversation already.

“Do you realize that people actually die for these puzzles?” She asked me making me blink slightly.

Slowly and carefully I spoke. “Of course but James says we are doing them a favor by finding out who murdered them. “ I replied. “We also help with non-murder related cases.” I piped up cheerily hoping to improve the mood.

Mrs. Moriarty’s shoulder’s slumped, a rare sight of defeat. “What great mistake did I make while raising that child?” She asked her hands that held her tired face as they propped them up against the marble counter.

She thought that there was something wrong with James. It was obvious she did. Instantly I wanted to defend him and immediately I started to. “You didn’t do anything wrong Mrs. Moriarty. James is perfectly fine, just more intelligent than most kids our age. While most kids don’t have the brain to solve a simple rubix cube he manages it in less than a minute. Your son is an absolute genius and uses it to benefit the people through working with the police. “I finished my rambling to hear the impatient sound of a tapping foot above and behind me.

Turning around to where James was standing outside of his room his elbows resting slightly on the railing of the overseeing section of the second floor. “Loran, you can come back in now. “ He announced a small frown resting slightly on his lips. Beside me Mrs. Moriarty looked caught off guard and almost embarrassed at her inquiries behind her son’s back.

Beaming I grabbed a few more cookies and a couple napkins as I rushed up the stairs. See James was fine I told myself. He had only kicked me out for twenty minutes, ten of which had been taken up by Mrs. Moriarty’s questions so I hadn’t been too bored. As I reached the top James hurriedly ushered me in and slammed the door.

“You don’t need to make me sound glorified in front of my mother.” He stated irritably his eyes bearing into mine as I stood in shock near the door almost dropping the cookies but managing not to since I knew James would get mad if there was even a single crumb on his spotless floor.

“I wasn’t…” I began but was cut off by James fixing my slightly messy hair as he shook his head.

“I know you were just saying what you believe.” He stated before shooting a look at the cookies in my hand and moving over to his own store of napkins. “Try not to make a mess.” He asked patiently as I laughed biting into the second cookie. Admittedly I did drop a single crumb before I deposited the rest of the crumb covered napkins into the trash. James sighed as he pointed the way to his attached bathroom indicating that I needed to wash my hands as he bent down with another napkin to pick up the tiny crumb and re-scrub the floors.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I scrubbed all the remnants of the cookies off of my hands. Staring back at me was the familiar and imperfect me. My blonde hair was slightly curly which at times made it a bit of a mess and it fell a few inches past my shoulders. Piercing blue eyes were possibly the best feature on my clean face. Most teens my age had red pimples breaking out across their face constantly covered at times by makeup. I didn’t even wear makeup because on them it smudged, and James was always mentioning how disgusting it looked.

Compared to most I appeared to be a neat freak although in reality it wasn’t me, it was James. On average I washed my face ten times a day, after every meal and when I woke up. After any drinks besides water…Sighing I dried my hands on the spotless white towel that was replaced numerous times a day.

Walking back out I laughed as I saw James sanitize his hands with the large bottle of hand sanitizer on his desk. “Neat freak.” I accused earning myself a shrug from him.

“At least I don’t get sick. “ He informed me continuing to rub in the sanitizer making me roll my eyes.

“Neither do I but I at least live.” James was silent for a bit.

“You are not exactly unhygienic yourself though. “ He pointed out making me shut up. He was correct, although it was because of him. Since I had started hanging out with him I had pretty much stopped getting sick altogether so his cleanliness really did help…still he was a bit obsessive over it.

Sitting down at the foot of his bed I stared up at him, “Your mom is worried about you.” I stated the obvious. Yes, I knew it was obvious but I still didn’t get why he didn’t tell his mom this stuff. It would have relieved her nerves if nothing else.

James sighed rolling his eyes in the direction of the door as if it would reach his mother. “So?” he asked me not seeing the problem.

I buried my head in my knees wondering why James wasn’t at least trying to resolve some of the misunderstandings about him. Recently I had begun to hear a bucket load of rumors about him, they seemed endless but James either didn’t notice them or just ignored them as if they were unimportant. “Your mother at least deserves to know what you are doing.” I told him but was cut off by him sitting down on the bed right next to me.

“Does she?” He asked looking at me with eyes that showed he didn’t agree. Honestly I hated arguing with James but his mother looked stressed out and left out of his life. He treated her like a stranger when she was the woman who gave birth to him.

“Yes.” I stated firmly causing him to chuckle lightly.

“I don’t think my mother wants to hear about the details of what I do.” He pointed out making me sigh as I looked up at him.

“She still deserves to know. She is the one who pays the bills, the one who raised you.” Mrs. Moriarty was always a hard working single mother as long as I could remember. If James ever had a father I had never met him. James interrupted me before I could say anything else.

“No, she didn’t raise me. Raising me implies that she taught me something or took care of me. We have and had maids for that Loran.” His voice was indifferent and I could already tell I wasn’t going to win this argument. Never once had I won an argument against James and if I ever did I was going to have to celebrate. Shooting him one last frown I gave it up.

“Fine, but I still think you should treat her a bit more like your mother.” I concluded which he just ignored. “So can I see what you have been working on yet?” I asked for about the hundredth time my curiosity was overwhelming and I really wanted to know what it was, if he was anyone else I probably would have figured it out already but this was James Moriarty and when he wanted something to stay secret it did.

He chuckled lightly as he shook his head, “Not yet, but trust me it will be worth it.” He promised me kissing me lightly on the forehead shocking me but he just walked back over to his desk as if he hadn’t done anything. In silent confusion my hand instinctively went to where his lips had touched my skin. James was really too hard for me to understand. Here I had been trying my best not to like him as anything more than a friend and he had to do something like that. The sad thing was I knew he didn’t like me as anything other than a friend. Forcefully hiding the slight frown that had made its way to my face I plopped onto his bed my mind wondering back to its state of boredom.

Lying down and looking towards James’ perfectly organized book shelf my eyes scanned over the stock of books, most of which I had read but I still wanted to find something different to read. What Charles had said about skipping into college ran through my head and I wondered if I even wanted to go to college…Probably I concluded, it might be challenging. “What do you think college would be like?” I pondered out loud making James turn to me with a slight frown on his face.

“Dull, although it is supposedly difficult. The biggest challenge there is just a bunch of easy assignments.” He informed me making me roll over so I could look at him without straining my neck.

“How do you know?” I interrogated. Sure James always appeared to know everything and he was rarely if ever wrong but still I wasn’t aware that he had been to college. He looked at me with one eyebrow raised before he laughed lightly.

“I already looked into it.” He explained simply with a shrug. “The teacher suggested it to me in fourth grade.” He added rolling his eyes. “It was just a waste of time. I sat through one lecture and found myself bored within the first few minutes.”

I nodded numbly, so Mrs. Fernstone had tried to get him to go to college…She had offered the same thing to me as well so it wasn’t just Charles who thought we should skip through the grades. “Do you think I would like it?” I asked him lost in thought and he just sighed heavily in response making me look up at him slightly annoyed. “I am not intelligent as you James so I still might find it educational, but I don’t know if I would want to skip grades.” I finished my explanation as he shrugged.

“Trust me I am aware Loran but, I still think it would be a waste for you unless you have decided upon an occupation that you want to pursue which I know you haven’t.” He stated knowingly making me nod in defeat before thinking of something.

“I like solving crimes so I could become a detective.” I told him with a triumphant smile and he just shook his head with a light laugh.

“No you like solving puzzles, and there are too many boring crimes that are committed for you to fully enjoy the job.” He reminded which made me frown.

“Then I can solve those ones quickly and enjoy the complex ones.” I countered which made him smile before shrugging.

“I suppose.” He agreed making me feel elated. I had actually somewhat won the argument! This had to be recorded I thought with extreme happiness which made him look at me oddly before I simply waved him off. A knock at the James’ door surprised me as James shot it a confused look before it opened to reveal his mother standing there awkwardly.

Her hair looked messy, and was sticking up in places from her running her hands through it stress-fully. Her eyes seemed heavy and she looked dreadfully tired as she spoke. “Sorry if I am interrupting anything but your parents called Loran…They said you need to come home now.” She informed me weakly glancing at James as if she wanted to speak to him. James looked at me for a second examining my expression as I nodded in confusion. Why did I need to come home right now? It wasn’t anywhere near dinner time…

“Did they say why?” I asked getting up from James’ bed not even bothering to smooth it out as I left the covers wrinkled up.

Mrs. Moriarty looked at her son for a second before she nodded, “They said they wanted you to stop hanging out around here. “ She summarized. “You received a scholarship letter from Harvard.” She added making me drop my mouth open in surprise, of course the part about them not wanting me around James was nothing new but I had never expected to get a scholarship offer, especially since I hadn't even applied to the school. Thinking about it I supposed my parents had dealt with that since they were always telling me how I needed to make something of myself and stopped fooling around. 

James sat facing his mother with a cold expression resting on his face before speaking directly towards her, something which he rarely did now days. “We are busy you can go now…mother.” He added as I shot him a small glare. She looked shocked by his words and was about to leave before I shook my head.

“Don’t go. You two need to talk and I guess my parents want me home. Mrs. Moriarty you really don’t need to worry about James he really is doing alright, although he is a bit board. “ I added watching her forcing a tense smile on her face as James shot me a look of annoyance as I beamed at him. I win again I thought happily beginning to walk out but stopping to hug Mrs. Moriarty before leaving which caught her slightly off guard but she loosened up a bit and hugged me back.

As I was walking out I could hear Mrs. Moriarty start talking. “Loran really is a good kid.” Her comment surprised me but made me smile as I hesitated before walking down the stairs the last thing I heard was James’ comment.

“She is a genius mother, although I guess you are right.” His words sounded troubled as if he didn’t exactly like admitting that I was “good”. James never cared about those type of things I remembered but the main thing that inhabited my mind as I left their house was the fact that my best friend and idol James Moriarty had just called me a genius. Maybe I would accept the scholarship to Harvard but if I did what would I go to college for? Law possibly I thought to myself wondering if being a lawyer would be as fun as being a detective?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All three of them loved to solve puzzles  
> They just took different paths  
> The Villain, the Hero, and the Secretary?  
> Two of them made sense but the third?  
> Well, she had her reasons.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------  
> I do NOT own Sherlock Holmes nor do I own any of the dialect that I use from it. What I do own is any additional characters I add into the story and my alterations to the original which make it a fan fiction. Admittedly my fan fiction starts out slower and all parts told from Sherlock's point of view up until the point when he meets my OC will be the same.


	8. Ch. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well I updated twice in one day so that is good I suppose. I hope you enjoy...Also my works are also locatable on Quotev under Crystal Woolf, just as they are here. Sometimes I forget to update on this site so if you are eager for updates you may one to look for it on there.

CH. 8

CH.8  
SHERLOCK

 

I sat staring up at the ceiling bored out of my mind, my thoughts traveled along with the case. As I had expected the suit case had been ditched but her cell phone was missing from it which meant the killer still had it. Three Nicotine patches rested on my right arm helping me think as I texted for John to come, three separate times ending with something I knew would get him to come. The words, “it might be dangerous”, yes I had figured him out for the most part, the man searched for danger making him my perfect assistant.

“What are you doing?” Watson asked as soon as he walked in.

Exhaling deeply I responded, “Nicotine patch, helps me think. Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days…” I explained not really thinking about his questions, my mind too occupied already. 

“You could always try breathing.” He responded making me roll my eyes my hands still held together palm to palm.

“Ah, Breathing? Breathing is boring.” I exhaled still staring at the ceiling.

“Is that three patches?” He asked with a bit of inquiring shock.

“It is a three patch problem…”I informed him simply the room falling silent for a bit before John spoke up again.

“Well, you asked me to come I am assuming it is important.”

Mind back on the need for him to text who I hoped would be the murder I began, “Oh yeah of course can I use your phone? “

“My phone?” he breathed trying to remain calm although I could hear anger hidden within his voice.

Sighing I explained, “Don’t want to use mine there is a chance it could be recognized plus it is on my website.”

“Mrs. Hudson’s got a phone.” Watson pointed out although I was already quite aware of the fact after all I had already wasted quite a bit of effort calling down for her in hopes of being able to use hers but to no avail.

“Yeah she is down stairs…I tried shouting but she is not in.”

“I was on the other side of London…” John started his voice close to anger but instead falling into the category of annoyance that I was beginning to realize he used a frequently.

“There was no hurry…” I reassured him letting him know that I did not consider it his fault that he took so long to arrive. Grouchy he reached into his pocket and grabbed it out thrusting it towards me and eventually setting it directly in my hand as he realized I was not going to waste the effort of sitting up to take it from him.

“Here” He stated annoyed before retreating a bit further into the room, closer to the burning fire place.,” …so this about the case?” He asked making me open my eyes again after closing them.

“The case…” I trailed aloud.

“Her case,” He reminded me redirecting my thoughts towards his question as my eyes fluttered open yet again.

“Her suitcase, yes, obviously…The murderer took her suitcase the first big mistake.” I thought aloud.

“Okay he took her case…so?” Watson babbled not understanding what I was getting at but then again I should not have expected him to, most people didn’t understand me in the slightest and he, admittedly was doing a better job of it than most although I suppose that came from his overwhelming amount of patience.

“There is no use, there is no other way, we’ll have to risk it…” I thought aloud. Yes, contacting the murderer would be our next move to confirm whether or not he did indeed have her phone as I predicted. John eyed me oddly but I ignored the look. “On my desk there is a number, I want you to send a text.” I explained moving my arm in the general direction of it and holding out his phone for him to take it again.

A fake smile pulled at the corners of John’s face showing his irritation as he breathed out in annoyance his words coming out measured, “You brought me here to send a text?”

“A text, yes…” I confirmed waiting for him to get on with it. My mind was still full with the case as I spoke paying no mind to how irritated Doctor Watson seemed to be with me. His mind just didn’t work like mine did and he clearly thought I was lazy and that was partially true so I didn’t bother to deny it. It seemed something other than that was bothering John and it pulled me from my thoughts. “What is wrong?” I inquired as he turned slightly to face me, already at my desk.

“I just met a friend of yours…” He told me catching me off guard. Did I have a friend I wondered thinking about it a look of confusion actually allowing itself to slip across my face?

“A friend?” I commented uncertain if he had been informed right by the man, at least I assumed it was a man by the way he mentioned him. 

“Well your arch enemy according to him.” John clarified looking at me for a second. “Do people have arch enemies?” he asked me as if the idea was odd and I nodded briefly understanding who he was referring to now. If Mycroft had spoken to him then it most likely involved some sum of money if he agreed to keep him informed on how I was doing.

Turning towards John with a serious face I asked exactly what I was nearly positive Mycroft had done, “Did he offer money for you to spy on me? “

“Yes.” John answered also in a serious tone seemingly not surprised by my quick assumption.

“Did you take it?” I continued awaiting his answer which came quickly and honestly.

“No,” He admitted shaking his head and disappointing me at the same time. He was loyal, too loyal and he barely even knew me…the money could have come in handy I thought to myself turning lightly towards him. 

“Pity we could have split it, think it through next time.”

John bit his lip in stunned irritation, “Who is he?”

“The most dangerous man you have ever met and not my problem right now.” I finished. That was true Mycroft had more ties in the British government than most and that made him powerful and dangerous at the same time. When you added that to the fact that he was my irritating brother who always attempted to keep me in line you got a very dangerous combination. “On my desk, the number,” I reminded him and watched out of the corner of my eyes as he balanced on his cane, then leaned it against the desk to grab the number and free his hands.

As he looked at the number and name his face scrunched up in confusion reading aloud he spoke, “Jennifer Wilson that would…hang on…Wasn’t that….?” Yes, I thought slightly annoyed at his mindless babbling that was only serving to waste our time; it was the lady in pink, or in other words the fourth suicide victim.

“Yes that is not important just enter the number.” I waved him off finally getting up in a smooth but quick motion as I bounded over to where he was, “You doing it?”

“Yes…” He answered still typing in the number.

I was never a very patient person I thought to myself knowing I would be done with it all already, asking Watson to do it was slowing me down, “You done it?” I inquired.

“Yes…hang on…” He replied irritably indicating that he was still busy at it, which made me think of him as terribly slow.

Once he was finished looking up at me for what to say next I continued, “These words exactly: What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 North Umberland St, please come.” The message should shock the murderer, and be uncomprehendable to any normal person who just found the phone which made it the perfect test to see if my prediction was correct.

He froze for a second and looked at me asking one of the most foolish questions ever, “You blacked out?”

“What? No, no, type and send it quickly. Have you sent it? ” I inquired impatiently moving the woman’s suitcase over to the table near the fire.  
Watson looked up again, “What is the address?” He repeated making me want to hit my head at his poke-iness when it came to sending messages. How in the world had he ever managed to communicate I marveled as I repeated myself.”

“22 North Umberland Street hurry up and send it", I repeated growing more impatient with him by the second.

When John had finished his eyes scanned over me looking into the case with an intent gaze and his face paled slightly as he stammered in bewilderment. “That’s…that’s the pink lady’s case…that’s Jennifer Wilson’s case.”

Rolling my eyes I confirmed his words although the confirmation was not at all needed, or at least it shouldn’t have been, “Yes, obviously…” as I sat there in silence looking into the case feeling his gaze upon me with suspicion and caution I rolled my eyes for a second time drawing out my words, “Oh, perhaps I should mention I didn’t kill her. “

John shook his head, “Never said you did.”

“Why not given the text I just had you send and the fact that I have her case it is a perfectly logical assumption.” I announced. He was being a fool to trust me as completely as he seemed to be doing and that was nearly as bad as Sergeant Donavon’s over active imagination placing me as the one at fault for every single one of the crimes.

“Do people usually assume you are the murderer?” He asked with an even voice looking at me with an almost numb look.

I smiled inhaling sharply as I jumped up to where I was perching in my favorite leather chair, “Now and then yes. “

“Okay..Hmm, how did you get this?” He interrogated although the answer was so obvious that even a kindergartener should have been able to realize it.

“By looking…” I stated simply still staring at the case. The killer should have received the massage by now, then there would be the time where he planned his next move so it was our turn to wait for him to make a move.

“Where?”

Sighing I spoke what I had believed to be so simple that a conclusion wasn’t necessary, “The killer must have driven her to Lauriston Gardens. He could only keep her case by accident if it was in the car. No one could be seen with this case without drawing attention to themselves especially a man which is statistically more likely.” I breathed in deeply for a breath still looking intently at the case in front of me my palms together and my two pointer fingers pointed in its direction. “So obviously he would feel compelled to get rid of it the moment he realized he still had it, which couldn’t have taken him more than five minutes. I check every back street wide enough for a car five minutes from Lauriston Gardens and anywhere he could dispose of a bulky object without being observed. “Thinking back to my search through the trash cans I finished. “It took me less than an hour to find the right skip.”

“Pink?” Watson said eyes glancing down at the case before returning his eyes to me. “Y…you got all that because you realized the case would be pink?” He questioned in disbelief.

“Well it had to be pink obviously…” I stated wondering why he could not grasp that as I spread my hands apart in a typical hand gesture of mine.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Watson asked his eyes trailed down towards the case again.

“Because you’re an idiot…” Watson’s head snapped up defensively and I waved him off. “No, no don’t be like that practically everyone is. Now look,” I continued pointing to the suitcase again and getting him back on topic. “Do you see what is missing?”

Watson glanced down at the case and spoke wearily, “From the case? How could I?”

It was so obvious but he didn’t seem to be getting it so I gave him the answer, ‘Her phone. Where is her mobile phone?” I inquired leading him towards the answers as I spread my arms apart again staring at the case in front of me that lay unzipped and full of clothing but lacking what she would have thought to be most important, her phone. “There was no phone on the body, there is no phone in the case, and we know she had one. That is the number you just texted.” I explained to him looking towards him.

”Maybe she left it at home?” He tried skeptically.

“She has a string of lovers that she is careful about and she never leaves her phone at home.” I informed him as he was staring probably unconsciously at the burning fire.

“Aw…alright. Why did I just send that text? “He questioned not fully understanding.

“Well the question is where is her phone now.” I lead him towards the answer to his own question.

“She could have lost it.” He attempted but I just smiled softly waiting for him to come to the right conclusion.

“Yes…or?”

His eyes widened as he came upon the realization of what we had just done. “The murderer, you think the murderer has the phone. “  
I nodded and explained exactly why the theory that I had just led him to was most probable, “Maybe she left it when she left her case, maybe he took it from her for some reason either way balanced probability is the murderer has it.”

At that John froze and looked at me in stunned thought, “I’m sorry what am I doing? Did I just text a murderer? What good will that do?” He asked although he should already understand exactly what good it would do. The phone began to ring with a withheld call.

“A few hours after his last victim and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If someone just found that phone they would ignore a text like that but the murderer.” I announced beginning to flip the suitcase closed. “Would panic…” I finished the case slamming shut as I did so and jumped up to begin getting ready to catch them man now that I had just confirmed my suspicions to be correct.

“Have you talked to the police?” Watson questioned quite stupidly making me shake my head viciously as I began pulling on my coat being sure to turn up the collar as I always did.

“Four people are dead there isn’t time to talk to the police. “ I scolded throwing my left arm through the last arm slot of my black heavy coat.

“Then why are you talking to me?” Watson asked perplexed.

I glanced over at the mantel to where I usually kept my skull, “Mrs. Hudson took my skull. “ I stated thoughtfully.

“So I am basically filling in for your skull?” He asked his voice indicating that he had a problem with it that I assumed was because he wasn’t sure he was doing a good job of it.

“Relax you are doing fine” I reassured him tying up my scarf simultaneously, “well…?” I began waiting for him to get up as well and prepare to leave, he had already made it clear he enjoyed this sort of thing, like me he grew bored and was constantly searching for that amazing thrill you get from putting our life in danger or doing something most would regard as crazy.

“Well what?” He asked not understanding the invite.

“Well you can just sit there and watch tellie…” I began letting him catch on.

“You want me to come with you.” He spoke.

“I like company when I go out and uh, I think better when I talk aloud and the skull just attracts attention so…” I trailed thinking about the many odd looks I had been given while carrying around my skull and speaking to it. Yes, many people believed me to be insane, “Problem?” I questioned knowing very well that there was something bothering him because of the thoughtful expression that had taken over his face accompanied by a small frown tugging at the corners of his lip.

“Yeah Sergeant Donavan…” He began making me look up at him wondering what on earth that imbecile had to do with anything.

“What about her?”

“She said you get off on this, you enjoy it,” He recited and I smiled lightly, yes that was what Miss Donavan thought of me, no surprise there of course but him attempting to claim I was wrong in enjoying a good case was absurd since he was much the same way as me.

I breathed in as I put on my gloves. “And I said dangerous and here you are.” I pointed out with a smile heading out the door and climbing down the stairs knowing John would follow. Down the stairs of 221 B. Baker St. to the floor where the uninhabited 221 A Baker St. was and out the door into the slightly chilly London air. The withheld call indicated that the killer had received my invitation to 22 North Umberland St. and if I was right about him he would be waiting there to meet us.

“Where are we going?” He asked a common question although one he should already know the answer to since he was the one who sent the text.

“North Umberland Street, it is a five minute walk from here.” I informed him not stopping as I walked determinedly towards the set location. It would be better if we arrived before him I decided keeping the pace relatively quick.

“You think he is stupid enough to go there. “ Watson stared in disbelief making me sigh shaking my head with a smile.

“No I think he is brilliant enough, I love the brilliant ones they are always so desperate to get caught. “ I corrected him. The man had managed to hunt in broad daylight without being noticed as suspicious and had even managed to get people to swallow the pills that killed them effectively making the police call it as suicide. If he had only done it once it would have even gone unnoticed but luckily for us, and for the sake of me having a good puzzle, he had chosen to make them serial suicides which alone sounded intriguing.

“Why?” Watson questioned not understanding the mind of the person we were dealing with while I was already beaming with excitement.

“Appreciation, applause, and at long last the spot light. That is the frailty of genius, we need an audience. “I explained knowingly.

“Yeah…” Watson trailed taking my word for it which was wise since I had experience with the sort of thing. Even I enjoyed being recognized for the more complex riddles I unraveled.

“This is his hunting ground,” I realized speaking aloud as I turned around in a circle taking it all it, “right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know that his victims weren’t abducted that changes everything because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, nobody noticed…Think! Who do we trust even though we don’t know them? Who passes unnoticed where ever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?  
“I don’t know, who?” Watson asked turning my rhetorical question into one in need of answering.

“I haven’t the faintest, hungry?” I questioned brightly leading the way to a familiar restaurant which I recalled to be positioned perfectly for us to keep an eye on the location where I assumed the killer would show up I walked in. My eyes scanned the room locking on the window booth and I went and slide into the seat on the right letting my eyes lock on the building we needed to keep an eye on. “22 North Umberland Street, keep your eyes on it.” I ordered reminding him of our mission here.

“He is not going to ring the doorbell that would be mad. “ Watson objected taking a seat in the left side of the booth I had chosen because of the perfect view of 22 North Umberland Street the window behind it provided for us.

“He has killed four people” I pointed out knowing he could very well be ready to reveal himself, especially since he had done such a good job of it to puzzle even me in the beginning, and I still had some questions as to how he managed to make the people swallow the pills. More than anything that was my biggest question now, I guess who he was matter too but it wasn’t nearly as interesting.

"Sherlock…” The owner, an old acquaintance of mine came up with a bright smile on his chubby and bristly face his light brown hair drawn back and went well past the collar of his white button up shirt. “Come on anything on the menu you want free, on the house…” He informed me as he handed us both menus, “for you and your date.” He finished mistaking John for my date which I chose to ignore as always.

“Do you want to eat?” I questioned Watson who just ignored me immediately addressing the incorrect statement that Angelo had said that I had shrugged off.

“I am not his date.” Doctor Watson exclaimed in an attempt to correct the man who was more of the time to run away with his original assumption than to make himself accurate making the argument pointless to pursue.

“This man got me off a murder charge.” Angelo announced eager to share how great of a man I was in his eyes. In all honesty the case had been too basic for me to deserve his praise.

Looking out the window I recalled the reason for my acquaintance with the man in front of us. “This is Angelo; three years ago I successfully proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town house breaking.” It had been a pretty simple case, not really worth that much of my time but still something since I got to prove Lestrade wrong which was one of my favorite past times.

Angelo looked at John nodding his head towards me and speaking in a rough British accent. “He cleared my name.”

“I cleared it a bit…” I reminded him, he had still gone to prison for stealing which wasn’t the best thing to have on his record. “Anything happened that you might have seen?

“Nothing” Angelo informed me shaking his head. I had expected that of course, the man wouldn’t have been too obvious about it at first but now I expected him to reveal himself to me. Angelo began to talk again enthusing about the job I had done for him although it hadn’t entirely been for him. “If not for this man I would have gone to prison.” Angelo shared gratefully although he was speaking to Watson.

“You did go to prison.” I reminded him although he did not appear to be listening to me.

“I’ll get a candle for the table…makes it more romantic.” Angelo informed us with a smile, something which I completely ignored deeming it unimportant, it took too much effort to argue with someone about the details of a relationship and besides I never really was one to be in a relationship in the first place.

“I am not his date.” Watson repeated desperately.

“You may as well eat while we wait.” I mumbled my mind too occupied with the case to be hungry myself.

Angelo brought the food John had ordered to the table himself not relying on a waiter which he must have thought to be a way of showing his gratitude to me. “Thanks,” John politely nodded taking the plate and beginning to eat as I stared out of the window waiting to see our murderer. He was brilliant so he would want to be caught as I said earlier; I knew that recognition was always something the intelligent wished for being a genius myself.

John stopped eating for a second and looked up at me. “People don’t have arch enemies…”he informed me although admittedly I didn’t entirely pick up what he was saying since I was so focused on the 22 North Umberland Street.

“Sorry?” I asked getting pulled out of my thoughts.

“In real life…there are no arch enemies in real life, doesn’t happen.” He claimed with a shrug as if it were a fact and impossible to actually have an arch enemy.

“So who did I meet?” Watson asked, a comment which I chose to ignore my mind still caught up on his previous claim.

“Doesn’t it?” I thought aloud. “Sounds a bit dull…what do real people have then…in their “real” lives.

John sat and thought about a minute before answering, “Friends, you know people they know people they like people they don’t like. “

“As I was saying dull” I interjected in an even voice, really where was the fun in life if arch enemies did not exist? That eliminated challenges making everything absolutely unexciting and pointless.

“You don’t have a girlfriend then?” He stated more than questioned, yes my words had made that obvious enough even for the average person to understand.

I thought about it for a second, no, people were too stupid for me to consider anyone romantically. Shaking my head I replied, “Girlfriend, no, not really my area.” Relationships in general were most definitely not my thing.

“Alright…” he trailed. “Do you have a boyfriend, which is fine by the way?” He added a gesture to try and let me know that he had nothing against someone being gay. The way he spoke may everything seem to be awkward, I was never good at awkward conversations, but then again I was never good at conversations in general.

“I know it is fine” I assured him, now he was just stating the obvious again.

“So you’ve got a boyfriend?” he inquired nodding as I thought that this conversation was taking an awkward turn.

“No.” I stated firmly, I was not gay; I just wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship in general.

John nodded slowly. “Right okay, you aren’t attached, like me…fine, good.” His words made me freeze suddenly my stomach felt slightly queasy and I wondered if my earlier assumption of him being straight was incorrect, the air was tense as I awkwardly pondered a polite way to inform him that I was definitely not interested. I intended to remain on good terms with him since he was my flat mate and did a good job of being my assistant but that was a bit too much…

His comment made me feel awkward and all of the remarks about us being a couple up until now that I had ignored could no longer be left alone. “John…um… I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work. I am more than flattered by your interest um… I’m really not looking for anybody.” I finished John already beginning to clarify his earlier words.

Watson turned slightly red and shook his head hurriedly tripping over his words, “Um, no I am not interested I am just saying it is all fine. “ He ended speaking clearly, his words sounded honest which was a relief to me, plus I did not originally take him as a gay man.

I nodded hesitantly, that was awkward, “Good, thank you…” My eyes trailed back over to the window where a cab had pulled up with no one getting in or out. “Look across the street, taxi stopped, nobody getting in nobody getting out. Oh, that is clever, why is it clever?” I thought aloud letting Watson follow and understand what I was thinking.

“That’s him” John remarked stating the obvious, again. He also turned to look out the window, quite obviously too, since he was originally facing in the opposite direction.

“Don’t stare.” I ordered wrinkling my eyebrows; we didn’t want to look too suspicious.

John looked at me in annoyance, “Why you are staring?” He seemed to think it was wrong for me to be able to stare while he couldn’t but I just quickly explained preparing to leave.

We can’t both stare.” I informed him grabbing my coat and getting out quickly followed by Watson. The taxi seeing us began to drive away and I ran after it nearly getting hit in the process my brain working on over drive to work where it would be going. “Sorry” I quickly hollered back towards the driver of the vehicle I ran right in front of.

“I’ve got the license number” Watson informed me as if that was a huge help which of course it was not unless we lost him which I did not plan on doing.

“Right good for you…” I told him not really caring, there were quicker ways of finding him, waiting to search the plate would take too long. In my mind I pictured a map of the different routes remembering everything that they would have to deal with, the signs, and the road work. “Right turn, one way, road work, traffic lights, pedestrian crossing, left turn, and only traffic lights. “ As I remembered their location I determined which path which made sense and how to intercept him. Immediately I set off taking the stairs up and hoping roofs in the direction we needed to be going. “Come on John we are losing him.” I called after my partner as he stopped to take in the height for a second. The signs mentally played through my mind as I continued quickly going down the stairs and running full speed over the side walk.

We just barely missed him the first time so I mentally remapped the route we should take changing directions. “This way.” I called and hearing John head in the wrong way I repeated impatiently, “No this way. “ I didn’t stop and he ran to catch up quickly, by now I had already noticed that he hadn’t brought his cane with him, so he must have left it at the restaurant.

“Sorry.” He yelled back an apology now right behind me as I ran through another alley way, a short cut. Crossing a few more streets still thinking of all the obstacles in the taxi drivers way and I made it just in time throwing myself in front of the vehicle to ensure it stopped, which it did just in time.

“Police, open up!” I hollered as the cab’s engine was turn off and I made my way to the side where the passenger had opened the door and was staring at us in clear confusion. Instantly I knew it wasn’t him, everything was wrong. “Teeth, tanned, what California, LA…Santa Monica, just arrived…” I voiced looking at the tag on his luggage quickly with my eyes.

John looked at me and held out his words as we spoke shaking his head slightly. “How could you possibly know that?”

I breathed out deeply still panting and disappointed with the fact that this wasn’t our murderer.“The luggage, Ah probably your first trip to London going by your final destination and the route the cabbie was taking you.”

“Sorry are you guys the police?” The American asked me looking between us as if he didn’t believe we were, no doubt he noticed the obvious, being our lack of proper uniforms.

“Yeah,” I said flashing Lestrade’s badge at him covering the name that was written upon it, “Everything alright?” I added a small question although I knew it was, a cop would make sure, I on the other hand had already grown bored of him.

He smiled looking at us both no doubt having difficulty believing we were who we said we were. “Yeah” He nodded his eyes telling me he wasn’t buying it which was slightly disappointing since I did in fact work with them…I was too intelligent to be a cop though I reasoned with myself.

“Welcome to London.” I finished with a small smile as I quickly walked off in the direction of home stopping only to wait for Watson.

“Uh, any problems just let us know” Watson stated trying to at least appear to be a police officer while I no longer cared about that, my cover only matter as long as it served some use. John caught up to me and trailed his words as he spoke, “…basically just a cab that happened to slow down. “

“Basically” I nodded catching my breath still from the strenuous exercise we had just finished.

“Not the murderer?” Watson asked although he already knew the answer. The man in the cab was definitely not the guilty party, everything disproved it.

“Not the murderer, no” I confirmed.

“Wrong country, good alibi” Watson gave the man with a small nod understanding that it was the end of that lead, luckily it wasn’t our only one.

“As good as they come” I agreed slightly irritated that we hadn’t caught the man. I had been so sure he would be there too.  
Watson nodded and looked at the wallet in my hand snatching it out of my grasp. “Yeah well where did you get this, it is Detective Inspector Lestrade?” He asked obviously expecting an answer.

“Yeah, I pick pocket him when they are being annoying give them back when I got plenty of them at home.” I explained simply with a shrug, it was easy and relieved some of my anger with the man when he was acting like an absolute idiot. Watson just laughed making me look up at him in confusion.

“What?” I interrogated not sure why he suddenly switched to the crazy sounding laughter.

“Nothing, just welcome to London,” I glimpsed back over at where the man was talking to a construction worker chuckling a bit as well.

“Got your breath back?” I asked taking a deep breath my chest still moving up and down from all of the heavy running I had just been doing.  
Watson nodded, “Ready when you are…” With that we took off running back towards our flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All three of them loved to solve puzzles  
> They just took different paths  
> The Villain, the Hero, and the Secretary?  
> Two of them made sense but the third?  
> Well, she had her reasons.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------  
> I do NOT own Sherlock Holmes nor do I own any of the dialect that I use from it. What I do own is any additional characters I add into the story and my alterations to the original which make it a fan fiction. Admittedly my fan fiction starts out slower and all parts told from Sherlock's point of view up until the point when he meets my OC will be the same.

**Author's Note:**

> All three of them loved to solve puzzles  
> They just took different paths  
> The Villain, the Hero, and the Secretary?  
> Two of them made sense but the third?  
> Well, she had her reasons.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------  
> I do NOT own Sherlock Holmes nor do I own any of the dialect that I use from it. What I do own is any additional characters I add into the story and my alterations to the original which make it a fan fiction. Admittedly my fan fiction starts out slower and all parts told from Sherlock's point of view up until the point when he meets my OC will be the same.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read my fan fiction, feel free to comment since when people comment I feel more inclined to update. Also if any of you do copy my work I will delete it as I said before.


End file.
